You Can't Hurry Trust
by ButtonMashr
Summary: Story four in the series. The fallout from Jughead's impulsive actions has isolated both him and FP from friends and support. As they are forced to navigate a wildly unstable alliance in order to protect themselves from both seen and unseen dangers, the hits just keep on coming. Don't worry, though: sometimes all it takes is one good vacation to get everyone back on track.
1. Chapter 1

**This is Story Four in the Jughead-is-held-hostage-and-stuff series (working title). Lots of characters do lots of things, but Beggars Can't Be Choosers (the first story) sets it all up. Stories 1-3 are clearly labeled and I'll love hearing from anyone discovering them now (hello!), or from brave souls taking on story four as a standalone (so very brave!) - and most of all from those folks committed to reading The Whole Thing, and those on this crazy ride with me from one chapter to the next.**

**Welcome!**

**If you read the prequels, you know what's coming. There were just a few loose ends. And we can't have that. :)**

**Enjoy!**

**-Button **

**_Prologue_**

FP felt Brand trying to reach his wrists again, and tried to angle his arms more helpfully. Frustratingly, it was impossible to return the favor and work on Brandon's bonds at the same time, but FP hoped they'd be able to pick up speed once one of them - FP, apparently - was freed.

They needed to hurry. The teens were alone, unprotected, and it had been long enough that anything might already be happening.

Lightning lit everything up again.

There was very little chance that the teens would not be all together, getting ready to wait out the storm as a group. They'd be tragically easy pickings.

"We really need to get this guy," Brand's voice was rough with anger. "He's not going to give up."

FP had been less successful in dislodging his own gag, but he grunted his muffled, emphatic agreement.

They were silent for a few moments, Brand still working to figure out the knots. He growled when his fingers slipped off of the ropes. "We are _screwed_."

FP closed his eyes and leaned his head back in helpless frustration.

Agreeing with Brandon still felt wrong, but he was afraid that they were on the same page: this was _really_ not good.

**Chapter One**

**_Thursday, nine days after the events of Debrief Is A Verb_**

Jughead was taking the long way home from school.

He needed to clear his head. Again.

The streets were starting to show yet another change as Jughead explored aimlessly, slowly looping his way around Riverdale before he'd eventually head home: there was more space between each property here, and the houses were larger and seemed to be empty of people. There must not be a lot of families with children on this street. Jughead had never noticed before, but each street seemed to have its own vibe.

A sedan with dark-tinted windows pulled up alongside the sidewalk where Jughead was walking. Crap.

"Get in the car, kid." The voice was cold and more than a little threatening.

Jughead glared in response. "I'm just walking home from school."

"It's not even scenic here, so let's not play this game," Brandon Davies leaned over to open the passenger door from the inside for Jughead.

"Brand, I'm just walking."

"Uh-huh. If you're not in this car before I start driving, we'll see if you're still walking for long."

Jughead got in then.

"Is school really that bad?" Brand asked as they drove toward the Joneses' house. His tone held a warning. "Your dad didn't tell you to come straight home for his health, but don't you think for one minute that he's going to make it to old age if you keep this up."

Jughead gave him a look.

"What? _I'm_ going to live forever because _I_ have learned to compartmentalize." Brand thought that over for a moment. "Although, you know who's looking like they're trying to screw that up for me? The teen wonder familiar-" Jughead swatted him then, earning a smirk "-belonging to a _very _nasty monster. Even Trigger knows that your dad is going to shoot me in cold blood if you keep pulling stunts like this while I'm on babysitting duty. And you can see it in his eyes: that dog's gonna be the one to bring FP the shotgun."

Jughead had to hide a smile. Trigger definitely liked his dad more than he liked Brand, which actually bothered both of them immensely.

"Aha," Brand jogged his shoulder. "There he is. Don't let anyone see you, though; I'm pretty sure Riverdale's got a new bylaw about you being happy, let alone smiling. Community service at a minimum."

That got rid of the smile in a hurry. Brand just smirked again at Jughead's renewed scowl.

Brand had rented an extended stay hotel room nearby, and would be there for the two weeks remaining between now and their upcoming interview, but he was spending a lot of time at the house. Nobody had thought it would be a good idea for him to move in, however, least of all Mary Andrews, who approved of the plan to set up a joint interview with Brand and Jughead sitting down for their first television appearance together - but who most emphatically did not approve of _anything _else that FP was doing by inviting Brand back into their lives.

But then, she didn't know about the threatening notes. Or the fact that the police and FBI had not deemed them 'credible,' which told them two things: that there were possibly a number of low-grade threats along those lines against Jughead coming from various directions, and also that they were on their own dealing with this issue. At least for now. If something 'escalated,' they were told, _then _action would be taken.

There had been another two notes by the time they got their mail from the Andrews' home, and more had been arriving steadily since they'd gotten the mail forwarded to the new address.

"School's fine." Jughead had insisted on going back only a day after being released from the hospital, sore but mostly functional on mild painkillers, but it was proving harder and harder to 'just get through' the final weeks of the year. Jughead was pretty sure Ms. Cardell was going to fail the paper he'd just turned in, and today his math teacher had made him do problems on the board from an entirely different class just to try and screw with him - excuse me, to try and 'challenge him.' _The Blue and Gold_ was now officially off-limits, goodbye editorship, and Alice was looking at him like he'd stolen Trig from her instead of from the drug dealers.

Archie wasn't allowed to hang out with Jughead anywhere but on school property or at the Andrews' home, with a parent present, for as long as Brand was in town. No sleepovers.

Jughead knew that Mr. Andrews was upset about Archie being endangered over Trigger and the drug dealers, and he of all people understood how messed up things could be when your guardian didn't want something - so he didn't blame Archie for things being weird now. But it certainly made everything harder.

Jughead couldn't even look Fred Andrews in the eye anymore, knowing how he felt about everything. And Mr. Andrews had a very good point. Jughead had screwed up, and Archie had been endangered. So had Betty. Trigger had almost been killed - by pretty much everyone who came in contact with him, if Brand was to be believed on the subject.

A lot of expensive man hours and equipment had been mobilized, which meant they hadn't been available for other emergencies if any had occurred. Jughead hadn't asked questions about that when he'd sat through that particular lecture, sensing it would only sound like an excuse - if there hadn't been another emergency - or else it would make him feel even more guilty than he already did. He hoped that nobody had died, and left it at that.

The Coopers had sent a large bill for the water damage Jughead and Brand had apparently caused to the back seat of Hal's car, and a few other expenses - including an outrageously expensive parking ticket. FP had raised an eyebrow over an extra charge for "detailing," but he'd long since accepted that he was going to have to pay for his son's actions. Jughead had winced when he scribbled out the check almost violently, but without so much as a syllable of protest.

Sheriff Keller had been surprisingly supportive and comforting in the hospital, but later on an article in _The_ _Register_ had made it very clear that Jughead had made his job - not to mention his reputation and perhaps even his continued employment - vastly more challenging.

Jughead was thoroughly learning a lesson that Brand had always been fond of pointing out: apologizing only went so far.

Finals were coming up quickly as well. That wouldn't be a problem in some subjects, but Jughead really could have used some tutoring in others. Mrs. Cooper had objections about Betty spending time with him - likely similar to Fred Andrews', but something about 'cavorting with drug dealers' had been audible even to Jughead before FP had hung up the phone on her - and so, along with any chance of walking home from school with Betty, their study sessions were 'on hold.' They wouldn't have to be on hold for long, either, before it was a moot point.

"Did you do your homework?" Brand's tone changed now.

He wasn't talking about school any longer.

"Yeah."

"Want to talk about it?"

"Nope." Jughead was officially breaking his partial media fast in preparation for the joint interview, and so far his reaction - pretty much from start to finish - was deep embarrassment. Knowing that everyone else had been reading, hearing, and watching all of _this_, while he'd had no idea for so many weeks what everyone thought of him, was mortifying.

There was some anger, too. He should probably admit that, at least to himself.

Maybe even a lot of anger.

Brand promised that their interview would turn the tide, though, and Jughead wanted to believe that. It was incredibly uncomfortable feeling so exposed to the world, with all of those reporters making a living by dramatizing, rehashing, and overanalyzing parts of his life. Now that the drug dealer incident had caught the wind like a sail, it was even more of a nightmare.

Apparently being famous for his 'involvement' in a huge bust in Toronto meant that being subsequently caught completely flat-footed by incompetent drug dealers was clickbait-worthy. So far nobody understood that it had all been about Trigger - that it had been impulsive - and instead they assumed that he'd been acting as some sort of a vigilante and trying to make a citizen's arrest or something.

The headlines alone were enough to make him see red, let alone the quotes from classmates - mostly ones who barely knew him, which was both a relief and a sore point - about FP and the Serpents and how 'inevitable' it had been for Jughead to end up in some sort of drug-den-related mess.

Alice Cooper had started printing vitriolic letters to the editor about 'the state of Riverdale,' and none of them suggested that Jughead had helped anything by 'shaming the town' through being 'stupid while famous.' Infamous. Whatever you wanted to call him. Even Mary Andrews couldn't get that to stop, and Jughead honestly felt like he deserved it.

It boiled down to this: he'd embarrassed everyone by incompetently trying to save Trigger and by being enough of a curiosity that now the entire country (and then some) thought Riverdale was a drug haven - and that drugs had most likely moved into Riverdale because its citizens were total idiots. Or something along those lines.

Bizarrely, a lot of Jughead's fear responses had started to calm down since he had been attacked and nearly drowned. He trusted Brand's analysis more than his therapist's on the subject of why that might be, too.

According to the counselor, Jughead was 'adjusting' and coming to rely on his support network appropriately. Finally. Being rescued from drowning had given him the assurances he needed in order to trust those around him.

Brand called that 'psychobabble' and simply pointed out that Jughead had been at least partially at fault for the incident occurring - and so it was something he felt confident he'd be able to avoid in the future - and that he'd also been very hard to handle, even for five full-grown adults. When they'd tried to murder a chained-up teenager he'd managed to move heaven and earth to stay alive long enough to be rescued, when by rights Jughead should have been dead long before Brand managed to get to him.

According to Brand, he'd earned his newfound confidence in the 'crucible of combat.'

Brand had actually started to say something about a 'baptism,' whether of fire or water, before he'd thought better of that phrasing. Jughead hadn't even mocked him for it, since he hadn't actually pulled the trigger on the pun - and it seemed best forgotten.

FP liked to say that Jughead should take Brand with 'a shaker or three of salt.' But FP hadn't actually backed up the counselor on that one, so Jughead figured that meant Brand was right. Except for that crucible of combat thing, which sounded a little too military for the ragged drug dealers he'd been up against.

Brand tried to make the confidence stick, though. He encouraged Jughead to 'own it.'

FP seemed more like he didn't trust that his son's sudden new confidence was permanent, and so he tried not to mention it explicitly. Jughead had the same fear, so he appreciated that. With his dad he could act like it was just another day, and this was simply how things were for now. Take it as it came.

But nobody had told Jughead about the shocking vacuum that fear could leave behind when it shifted abruptly - and that vacuum sometimes being filled with something like aggression. Or what Brand termed his 'self-destructive streak.'

FP called it 'being stupid.'

Jughead called it 'blowing off steam.'

"How's Betty?" Brand had apparently had enough silence for one car ride.

"She's fine."

"Got that car yet?"

The Coopers had decided that a new car would be more useful to Betty if she had it sooner - which might have something to do with the fact that she'd taken Hal's car to race Jughead to the hospital.

"Not yet." Jughead suspected she would wait for him to be able to come along and look at cars. He wasn't sure when her parents would allow that, though.

"I'll buy her one. What's she want?"

"Do not buy her a car," Jughead sighed. Brand was officially part of the Betty Cooper fan club, which was actually kind of great, except that he was so unpredictable. Jughead tried to keep up with him - as much as he could, anyway - but comments like that threw him for a loop regularly.

"Do you want to train when we get back? Trigger can stand a session in the backyard."

They'd thankfully never had to learn the hard way to contain Trigger while training. Jughead was entirely clear on that from his experiences with the drug dealers.

And this idea actually sounded fantastic. Jughead had been thrilled to get back to training, and so far that had been one of the best things about having Brand around. Particularly with the knowledge that his dad would make sure Brand never pushed anything too far.

Not that they trained in front of FP. They just made sure there weren't any obvious marks.

Brand had suggested that FP would not be cool with them resuming training in any fashion, and at first Jughead had thought that was unlikely - the training had saved his life, after all - but then his dad had come home from work the previous week and found them playfully roughhousing in the kitchen over Jughead using up the hot water yet again in a fruitless attempt to hurry along the hypothermia's lingering effects.

FP had been carrying his shotgun - a very recent purchase - when he slammed the front door open, and Brand had thrown Jughead behind the kitchen island and was going for his own sidearm before it became clear what was going on.

If they'd actually been training, or if Brand's first instinct had not been to protect Jughead, it might have ended very differently than it had: with threats and yelling, but no bloodshed. They'd all had ice cream afterward, which ended up marking the beginning of a tradition whenever Brand and FP fought too badly. Brand had bandaged up Jughead's shoulder where he'd hit the corner of the fridge. So maybe there actually _was_ some bloodshed, come to think of it. Jughead had just been grateful that his shoulder had taken the hit and not his head.

FP had overseen all of that with a scowl, one hand on the shotgun for longer than was really necessary, but even so Jughead knew things were better with him.

A lot better.

So maybe things didn't feel great right now, but school actually would end soon. They'd do their interview. And then Jughead would go on vacation with his dad.

He could do this.

"Yeah, let's train. Then can we go over some chemistry?" Jughead figured that if he couldn't work with Betty, Brand was the next best thing.

"Sure thing, kid," Brand reached over to tousle his hair. "Just like old times. I'm still not teaching you anything fun or useful, though, so don't get any ideas."

Jughead rolled down his window slightly and trailed his hand in the wind. The weather was starting to really feel like summer, and hopefully sometime soon he'd be able to really enjoy it.

**00000**

FP got home from work just before seven pm and surveyed the scene at their new dining room table.

It looked a little _too_ innocent.

Brandon was typing away on his laptop, looking up only to nod once in confirmation that everything had gone smoothly with Jughead - from walking straight home from school to doing homework right away before taking Trig out - and that FP didn't need to follow up about any of it.

FP wasn't sure he believed that when he saw Jughead avoid eye contact while scribbling through some kind of short answer assignment that would normally have been completed hours earlier.

This whole arrangement was on the brink of disaster, FP knew, and the only question in his mind was whether they would manage to hold that disaster at bay through the two weeks that remained until the interview - or if the disaster was already in progress and he just hadn't realized it yet.

Fred seemed to favor the latter interpretation of the situation.

Work had been fine, and in many ways a relief, but FP had not appreciated Fred casually joining him during their lunch break as if he hadn't turned traitor along with the entire town.

Apparently there were 'two sides' to the situation.

FP could not agree more: there was a right side and a wrong side.

Jughead finished his assignment while FP was pulling out leftovers to reheat for dinner. Slamming the textbooks shut, Jughead scooped them up and started carrying them toward the stairs and his bedroom.

"Are you... _limping_?" FP had been watching for any delayed symptoms stemming from Jughead's closed head injury, but this seemed bizarre.

Jughead straightened his gait out instantly, but FP didn't miss the flash of a wince across his face when he did so.

"What happened?" FP demanded. Now he looked from Jughead to Brandon, who was looking up from his laptop with an expression that looked suspiciously more like 'what did you expect?' than 'I am so incredibly sorry that I failed miserably during my brief shift protecting your son.'

"I fell down the stairs," Jughead said with more than a little attitude. He must have noticed Brandon's expression as well.

Those two had some very, _very_ irritating dynamics.

"You," FP pointed at Jughead. "In your room. And calm that dog down."

Trig was audibly throwing something around to amuse himself in the upstairs hallway. In the back of his mind, FP knew he'd started to lose some of the good habits he'd developed for helping Jughead regain his autonomy - asking questions, not ordering him to do things, and so on.

But when Jughead stopped and weighed FP's words, visibly debating the consequences versus any benefit he might gain by defying his father, FP figured this change was not wholly inappropriate.

Autonomy was back, and it was angry.

FP didn't quite reminisce about the bad old days when Jughead agreed to anything he suggested, as if his brain simply could not engage with the world. For the most part he didn't, anyway.

Jughead did not quite stomp up the stairs, but that might be related to his limp. FP certainly wasn't giving him any credit for not acting even _more_ recalcitrant.

"Brandon."

FP turned to the man who had been hired to hold his son hostage, abducted and endangered him for still-unknown reasons, most likely been forced to bring him back to FP as part of some insane arrangement that included a cushy new job - and then seen fit to save his son's life. The man who was even now putting himself between Jughead and danger by watching over him during the hours after school before FP got home from work, and investigating the vague threats that just kept on coming.

This was the man over whom FP was fighting Mary Andrews, battling Fred, and seeing his son isolated from friends. All because Brandon might be their best shot at getting over a media frenzy hump that kept getting bigger. And because he was the single best-equipped person FP knew for protecting Jughead from whatever was brewing - and, whatever his reasons might be, apparently the person in second place for 'most motivated to keep Jughead safe.'

"Get the hell out of my house."

**00000**

FP finished heating up dinner and brought two plates up to Jughead's room.

Jughead was lying on his bed with a book.

"What have you got there?" FP sat down on the bed and held a heaping plate out to Jughead.

"A book," Jughead's tone was sarcastic, but then he sighed and his body slumped wearily. "I should be studying, though."

"Worried about finals?"

"I was _supposed _to have a tutor," Jughead kept his eyes on his plate.

"Yeah. Alice is-," FP figured he shouldn't lose all of the habits he'd learned while living at the Andrews', "complicated."

"Which one?" Jughead seemed to realize what he'd just said and quickly continued. "Not that I'm talking to either."

"I know." FP was getting the sense that Jughead needed to be cut some slack right about now. "Want to talk me through what you're studying? Have some company?"

"I was going to study with Brand," Jughead had overheard his godfather being kicked out of the house. He felt a little badly, but Brand had been the one who'd thrown him so hard while they were training. Jughead hadn't expected that he'd have to hide a banged up hip from his dad, and while he hadn't intentionally let on that something had happened… there was a part of Jughead that didn't want to have too many more secrets from his dad with Brand.

"He's pretty smart," FP said easily. "Much better to study with, I'm sure."

"You need me to tell you that I love you? That I don't want to trade you in at the dad store?" Jughead's words were sarcastic, but his tone was more vulnerable than he'd meant for it to come out.

"At least get cash and not store credit," FP patted Jughead's knee, after making sure he was not jostling the leg he'd been limping on. "Now, there's nothing quite like talking politics over dinner," FP stretched out at the foot of the bed and took a bite of mashed potatoes. "Is that something you're studying? We can start there."

"I'll get my books," Jughead set his plate on his bedside table with a quick warning gesture toward Trig. The dog listened, but only if he knew you were paying attention.

"Just tell me you're not doing Tennyson," FP shivered. "That's probably junior or senior year, though, huh?"

"I'm doing all right in Lit," Jughead pulled two books out of his stack. "You're stuck with the bottom of the barrel subjects tonight."

"Just go slowly," FP cautioned with a smirk. "Your old man put in a full day of work and this didn't go so well the first time around."

Jughead sighed, but ten minutes later he was finding that coming up with answers for his dad's attentive questions was helping immensely - it was all making more sense, and they were covering ground quickly. He was learning.

If only that was what determined academic success.

**00000**

"Hey, man," Archie greeted Jughead at their usual lunch table.

Jughead looked like he'd been up all night. Archie reminded himself that it was not his problem; Jug would bring it up - or not - and that was fine. His dad had been talking him down for a few days now, since it felt really awful losing close daily contact with Jughead. And to have Brandon be the reason for that. Again.

Archie was starting to have nightmares now, just when they'd thought those had been exorcised from the house.

"Hi Archie," Jughead looked up, crossing his eyes at his friend and affecting a zombie voice: "Finals are coming."

"Yeah, I'm aware," Archie smiled. "We've got weeks, though. Don't kill yourself studying just yet. Are you feeling like you'll be ready?"

"Right about now I'm feeling schooled," Jughead smiled darkly. "Want to get together and play video games or something this weekend? Break the cycle of madness for a little while?"

"Uh," Archie had already made plans with Veronica. "Look, normally I'd invite you - we're going to Sweetwater River - but-,"

"Hey, say no more," Jughead hoped his voice was as blithe as it sounded in his head. "That's got to be the first trip out there of the season, right? I bet Veronica's really looking forward to it."

"To what?" Betty joined them now, sitting next to Jughead.

"Sweetwater River this weekend," Jughead explained. His breath caught when Betty leaned over in front of him to address Archie.

"Wait, tomorrow at two, right? You didn't change things up did you?" Betty turned to face Jughead before leaning back, and in the awkward position their faces were suddenly really close. Betty grinned and held the position for a playful moment before she sat back into her seat. "You can make it too, right, Jug?"

"Uh, yeah, but - I mean, no. I can't," Jughead suddenly processed what she'd been asking and gave Betty a mock-suspicious smile. "Betty Cooper, are you asking if I'll sneak around with you behind your mother's back?"

Betty's mother had basically echoed the Andrews' policy once she'd heard about it: only hanging out on school property or in the Coopers' home with at least one parent present.

"Hey, I'm not gonna-," Archie put his hands up.

"No, no, I'm not going to kick you out of your own plan," Jughead quickly reassured Archie. "It's just… nice to hear. That's all."

Veronica joined them now. "Finals are already kicking my butt!"

"Yeah, same," Jughead and Veronica shared a look of solidarity.

"We were just saying that we've got weeks, Jughead," Archie's tone had a slight edge. "You _literally _just said that you need a break from studying this weekend."

Jughead blinked, confused by the abrupt shift in the conversation's tone. "Uh, yeah. I just-,"

"It's sophomore year. It barely even counts." Archie was making meaningful eye contact now and his tone was even harsher.

"Whoa, whoa - calm down. You can slack all you want, Archiekins," Veronica tried to defuse the suddenly charged moment. "But Jughead's got a lot of ground to cover-,"

"Yeah. _Jughead _does. Not the rest of us."

Betty's eyes widened now. "Um, Arch? Are you okay?"

Jughead looked stricken. Archie maintained his aggressive eye contact, though. "Right?"

"Yeah," Jughead dropped his eyes, embarrassed and confused. "It's just me and - all that jazz."

"And even _you're _taking a break this weekend."

"Yeah." Jughead made eye contact again and had a sudden, disturbing flash to when Brand had pinned him against the counter in Toronto and told him exactly how life was run in his household. He figured silence had worked then and might work again now.

Archie didn't look away, though.

"I'm taking a break this weekend," Jughead finally repeated, searching his best friend's eyes for whether that was what he wanted from him.

"Good." Archie took a deep breath and let it out in a rush.

Veronica abruptly slid her chair back, picked up her lunch, and walked away without a word. Archie stared after her, but the tense lines of his expression didn't change.

That was when Jughead realized that their exchange had not been about him. Something else was wrong.

**00000**

"So, you have your assignments. It's the final edition, so make it fun!" Alice heard herself almost chirping at Betty and the two freshman reporters who had signed on to learn the ropes and then write more seriously for _The Blue and Gold_ the following year. But then, she was nervous.

This was the edition. This was finally it. She'd already written a rambling, word-vomit first draft of the tell-all article.

Even in its overly-long form, with a desperate need for editing and fact-checking, it was already taking a very specific shape that Alice liked: it was fair. It was generous in some places, without sacrificing objectivity. It was honest. It was a story that would tempt the tabloids, and with (a lot of) revision it could be presented in a manner that would still fly with the journals.

Alice was proud: she'd become the valkyrie she always imagined, avenging her father. A reporter in search of the truth. The public had a right to know.

But at the same time: her feet could not have been colder.

Jonas - Jughead - had nearly been _killed _less than two weeks ago. Was Alice seriously considering doing this?

The school paper would only be the launching point, too, before her article would springboard instantly to news outlets that were foaming at the mouth for any new details to churn since the latest story had broken. Alice's mother was thrilled about the events and their timing, which was truly sickening - and increasingly typical of her.

Jughead really seemed fine, though. In fact, Alice thought there was something of a swagger to his walk since he'd returned to school so shockingly quickly after his brief hospitalization.

Apparently he hadn't been nearly as injured as everyone had feared for about five minutes. He was also _really_ motivated to get through as much as he could of the school year.

And now, suddenly, Jughead's voice could be heard in the halls. His shoulders seemed like they actually took up space.

He wasn't Jonas. Not entirely. He was the younger, more relaxed version of Jonas that he'd been claiming existed, but until now shown no evidence of ever having been.

And he had a new smile. Or maybe it was an old smile, newly resurrected.

It mostly came out for Betty, but every so often he'd just be thinking about something and his whole face lit up with an almost-embarrassed grin. It was as if he was self-conscious about being quite so happy, reluctant to let on that anything had reached him so effectively, and yet he couldn't quite hide it.

There was something else that had appeared, too. Moments when Jughead became exactly what he had looked like in Toronto: trouble.

Alice probably wouldn't have caught on to that little change so quickly, but she'd been entirely unable to keep herself from noticing him. And so she saw when the Bulldogs brushed past him a little too closely and his shoulders squared instead of yielding. She saw the combative flick of his eyebrows when someone commented about his math class and the teacher who had begun tormenting him in a nearly chest-thumping display of power and control in the classroom.

She also saw him leave school in a different direction every day this week.

So something had changed, and it was mostly good. An elusive piece of the puzzle had clicked back into place and Jughead Jones was officially home again, body and soul.

But there was a tinge of something else. Now that he wasn't jumping away from shadows, it seemed like maybe he'd finally begun to realize - understand - exactly what had been taken from him. And perhaps he wanted a little justice. Something to even up the score.

It seemed like maybe he wanted to use the echoes of what had been done to him to make his world bigger than it ever would have been had he simply had the normal life they had all been promised. He'd defy every prediction and successfully reclaim his life - and then some.

Alice understood that feeling.

**00000**

**And we're off!**

**Second disclaimer about the nature of August: I want to spoil you. I'll try to spoil you. But schedules go into the mixer and I'll be here when I can - and that will be less than over the summer. Reviews always help!**

**I really hope you enjoyed the kick-off. :)**

**-Button**


	2. Chapter 2

**And on we go! (sorry in advance for going nutso here with the author's note, but hinge chapters = hi everybody!)**

**Thank you very much for the reviews, Living Lucid Dream! The hinge from Debrief to Trust (which sounds thematically accurate) was a bear (was that 14k words? Am I dead?), and you 100% made me feel like it worked. Or at least was not a train wreck (major continuity and typo issue aside, both of which you were super classy about ignoring...). Thank you for that! Fred remains awesome (though necessarily at a distance for now, yeah), but this is FP and Brand's time to shine (and Jughead's, of course) and I am very reassured to hear that I'm not the only one loving those two. :-D The practical side + Trigger = ? :) Archie's getting real arc, too! Good theories about his trajectory... I like quartet, BTW. It's official. :) _So_ much yay for the prologue being a winner; I need more flourishes in my bow than normal to fully thank you for your lovely comments on that. I've got a super clear vision for parts of this story, so that was so fun to finally(!) write. As was the bill for Hal****'s car (because I'm super mean), though I do feel badly about Tom Keller. He deserves better. And you sum up the central issue very well: we've got anger and we've got desires for revenge now that people aren't in survival mode. Also: you are so welcome! Thank you again for your faithful notes!**

**Thank you also Guest, for your lovely reviews! Rose is not forgotten; you are quite right. I'm so glad you're enjoying Trigger, and I've been jokingly thinking of this story as "the co-parenting one" so your wording is particularly welcome and I think you will not be disappointed. :) Alice and Jug should totally talk, I agree. Every 'Dear Prudence' response ever suggests that, too, right? We'll see more of the teen dynamics for sure!**

**Also: shout-out to Skyrider45. Thank you for the great notes on AWP and now Debrief! I assume you'll get here, so hopefully this will be a fun (second?) Easter egg when you do (hello!). You put your finger on pretty much exactly my feelings about the teenagers suddenly turning into adults in the show, and I'm betting that only got more obvious after you first commented on it. Brand actually gives Jughead an adolescence (as opposed to Jug being forced into independent adulthood at age fifteen or so) in a very twisted way, and I don't think we're going to lose that thread any time soon. Also, I'm not quite _that_ mean about distracting naming (just don't ask me for Trigger puns or Brand puns, which accrue daily over here; I've behaved myself so far!), and you may have finally (finally!) set my mind to rest on my greatest fear: that my writing was going backward. Usually I'd say that is not humanly possible (practice is practice), but then I wrote a story in under a month and that called everything (everything!) into question. So thank you muchly for that feedback.**

**Also, in summary, to everyone: thanks for coming along into story four!**

**Enjoy!**

**-Button**

**00000**

It was Saturday. Usually the best day of the week. But today it was just lonely.

The notes continued to be worrisome, and another one had arrived in Friday's mail, but as long as Brand had his cell handy and knew exactly where he was at all times - something Jughead had admittedly played fast and loose with, though Brand had never quite ratted him out to his dad -, Jughead had been allowed to walk to and from school.

He'd also been going out running with Trigger, on a route they'd all agreed on together and from which he was not permitted to deviate. Brand had set up a tracking app for that after the sole instance when Jughead came back over an hour late, though Brand had not insisted on doing the same for walks home from school. Yet.

FP had decided that, whatever the notes indicated - and it was scary whenever they seemed a little too on the money - it was not anything that required more drastic adjustments to their daily routine. House arrest or whatever. And so Jughead had been left to hold the fort alone on Saturday, after only a twenty-minute lecture on what not to do.

For that reason he was lying on their couch, petting Trig and poring over his chemistry textbook in an otherwise empty house.

Jughead knew construction work was often busy over the weekend, and that Mr. Andrews only had a somewhat more conventional schedule because he owned the company - and so his dad would be working six days a week for the foreseeable future. FP had also explained to him over breakfast that Brand would be taking a 'breather' from acting as essentially a bodyguard for Jughead. At least until the three of them could sit down on Sunday and discuss 'ground rules.' Again.

There was an easier way to have that conversation with Brand, Jughead knew: abandon all hope and accept the inevitable.

He appreciated that his dad wasn't asking him to police Brand, though. Jughead felt a whole lot less like he was just along for the ride these days, but that was a relative thing. And it didn't mean he felt like he could get even an inch of purchase on a situation if Brand was not making a point of giving it to him.

That was exhausting.

Jughead was also not at all sure that his dad could win the power struggle he was so obviously engaged in with Brand. FP had bought the shotgun for home defense, but Brand regarded it - derisively - as a weaker man's attempt to even the playing field with him. Jughead didn't know whether Brand was entirely wrong, and he felt really uncomfortable with the idea that his dad and Brand might one day come to blows - and Brand would win. Probably by a mile.

It was the old 'my dad can beat up your dad' argument from the playground, but so deeply twisted that Jughead wanted to cringe whenever tensions rose. Which - at least so far - was almost any time that they were in the same room.

It seemed like Brand leaving in just two weeks should have made this easier: Jughead could play the smart long game and just align himself with his dad. They could team up and force Brand to act like a normal human. At least when he was in their house.

That was not the reality, though. Instead, Jughead felt like Brand being around permanently would have allowed him to adjust their relationship firmly and with finality. They'd fight, work it out, and eventually move forward.

With Brand leaving in just a couple of weeks, it felt a lot more as though Jughead could screw things up... and then Brand would just leave.

FP had asked Jughead over breakfast why he was worried about Brand's feelings (that much had apparently become obvious) and Jughead hadn't had an answer. Brand leaving for good wasn't a bad thing in his dad's mind, and it was still difficult to explain that even studying with his dad and hanging out when he wasn't working long construction hours just wasn't the same.

It was greedy. He knew that. It might even be unfair. But Jughead really wanted them both.

Well, maybe a little less of Brand.

But Jughead didn't want to go weeks - or months - at a time without training, engaging in their particular style of playful roughhousing, experimenting with cooking together, and discussing what they were reading. Their banter was fast and - to use Alice's word - a tongue-in-cheek sort of 'pretentious' that made Jughead have to fight to keep up with his godfather's quick wit and extensive knowledge. It was fun, and FP was not the same.

Since it always seemed to be a contest, Jughead had gotten used to admitting again and again that his dad won. Handily. Jughead could take the lead when it was just the two of them; FP would willingly take turns making decisions for them, something he rarely did with anyone else, and he listened in a way that gave Jughead space - even when FP did not agree with or approve of what he did with that space. They didn't talk and laugh through movies quite like Jughead and Brand did, but FP would take time to relax and lay his arm along the couch behind Jughead's shoulders while they talked about FP's younger days with the Serpents.

The humor was rougher around the edges, and FP tended to appreciate Jughead's wit more than he actively engaged in any banter about literature or history, but Jughead was a son and - almost - an adult with his dad.

With Brand he was still a trainee, and the promise of growing out of that seemed much further away than the same sort of thing with FP. It was more of a challenge, and Jughead fully intended to win.

Just not at the expense of everything else.

Jughead realized that he was no longer getting anywhere with his studying. He'd planned to take Trigger out for a run, but a quick glance at the clock crushed his enthusiasm. It was 2:30 in the afternoon, and at this very moment his best friends were all at Sweetwater River enjoying the gorgeous day together.

Jughead pulled out his phone and saw that he had a text from Betty.

It included a fantastic photo of a beautiful day, and the water looked even more inviting than it probably was in reality. Jughead decided not to reply just yet. He didn't want to accidentally sound morose and spoil even a little of Betty's afternoon.

Then he had an idea: Kevin was not likely to be at Sweetwater River. He might have plans, but as far as Jughead could tell Sheriff Keller had been a lot more understanding of Jughead's irresponsible actions and their terrible fallout. Maybe they could take Trigger out together.

Jughead sent a brief text, inquiring.

There was a delay, but Kevin's response was encouraging: 'Meeting Joaquin to go swimming at Crystal Lake. Bring Trig to the Wyrm? We'll be outside.' Sheriff Keller had very specific guidelines for his son.

It was a long walk, but Jughead and Trigger could both use the exercise. 'Will you be there a while?'

'We'll wait. I can drop you off after.'

Jughead knew this was likely to be major third wheel territory, but he honestly didn't care. He had somewhere to go, and people to see.

Grabbing Trigger's leash and his ragged backpack with the safety pins holding it together, Jughead grabbed a water bottle and a collapsible dog dish. Three protein bars and a handful of dog treats followed, with one extra treat finding its way to Trig, and then they were heading out the door.

Jughead doubled back to leave a note. He'd need to get better about that, but at least he'd remembered before they got too far away.

This sounded promising, too. It would be something different, and hopefully an avenue for future hangouts during the weeks that Brand would be in town. Jughead was hopeful.

**00000**

FP didn't always appreciate the physicality of his work. Arriving home exhausted to confront Jughead's endless energy - not to mention Trigger's - could be frustrating.

Today, however, it felt deeply satisfying to feel his muscles engage and the stress dissipate as he sweated in the near-summer temperatures. It almost seemed as though he was sweating Brand out of his system, and FP knew he needed to force the irritation out of himself before spending the evening with Jughead - and then addressing the lying with both Brandon and Jughead on Sunday.

FP was still trying to decide whether he wanted to officially condone any of the training that he knew Brandon and Jughead were undertaking illicitly.

He'd never doubted that would happen, and had banned the activity (with prejudice) in part to make sure that Brandon took it easy on Jug and never hurt him, accidentally or otherwise. The need to have no visible marks was a pretty good limiting factor on that sort of thing.

Now it seemed like that strategy had not worked, since Jughead had suffered his mysterious limping injury. And the lying itself was starting to make FP nervous. He was getting the distinct impression that the training was just one of several ongoing lies, a situation that would explain some of the more bizarre dynamics between Brandon and Jughead, and FP was not at all certain that he could figure out all of them. Brandon would quickly gain leverage over Jughead if this went much further.

FP was not about to let that happen. Not on his watch.

Of course condoning the training explicitly would do far more than eliminate the need to hide it, and might inspire Brandon to flaunt his physical dominance over Jughead. It might also open the floodgates to all manner of risky behaviors once they no longer had to hide marks from FP.

This was a tough one.

FP felt his phone buzz and decided to take a water break.

He pulled out his cell and was surprised to see that the message was from Tall Boy.

And then he was no longer surprised. Of course Jughead had zeroed in on the one thing FP hadn't though to prohibit in his near-comprehensive list of what not to do today.

That's just the kind of week this one had turned out to be.

**00000**

"Kevin invited you," Joaquin's expression was disdainful when he finally addressed Jughead directly - while Kevin ran back to his car to grab his backpack before they started toward Crystal Lake.

"Uh, yeah," Jughead had thought that would be obvious.

"No, I mean - _Kevin_ invited you," Joaquin repeated. "Nobody from the Southside wants you here. You might want to have a sudden, unexpected emergency. You know, so as to avoid having a sudden, unexpected emergency."

"What?" Jughead dropped a hand to Trigger's head. The dog was starting to eye Joaquin like he might be threatening them. And Trig might not be wrong; Jughead couldn't tell yet. "I just got here. What are you worried will happen?"

The Southside had bigger issues than Jughead, he was pretty sure.

"For one thing," Joaquin looked past Jughead to make sure that Kevin was still out of earshot, "you apparently don't even know why coming around here is a terrible idea. That makes you an idiot, and we don't tolerate those so well."

Jughead frowned. He knew for a fact that his dad liked Joaquin and respected him. This whole exchange was unexpected and confusing.

"For another," Joaquin continued, "if you so much as stub a toe, we'll make headlines."

That actually seemed more fair, though Jughead sincerely hoped that the media wouldn't care if he broke his arm while he was out running with Trig or whatnot.

"Most important, though, you're messing with the arrangements FP made - just by showing up here - and that is not cool," Joaquin gave Jughead a meaningful look.

Crap. Jughead had no idea what he was talking about now, and Joaquin obviously thought he did. And it was entirely unclear whether he needed to just pretend he understood, or if that would create issues all on its own.

"And," Joaquin apparently had even more arguments, "you're an idiot."

Okay, so it was the first argument a second time.

"FP didn't teach you _anything_? Like not to show up in the middle of his territory when things are barely under control and you're the reason he's not here in person to rein it back in?" Joaquin's lip curled in derision. "Ignorance must really be bliss."

Oh. Jughead hadn't thought too much about what arrangements his dad had made with the Serpents. He realized now that he'd just sort of assumed that someone else had taken over when everything had changed.

Apparently it was more complicated. And that was making the Serpents unhappy.

"You want me gone? Fine," Jughead wasn't going to stick around. This really was sounding like a bad idea.

Joaquin was shaking his head now, though, and there was murder in his eyes for just a moment.

"What do you mean? What's going on?"

Crap. Kevin was right behind him.

"Nothing," Jughead tried to come up with any way to walk back what he'd just said. "Um, Joaquin was, uh-,"

"I accidentally made him feel like he was intruding," Joaquin said smoothly, all traces of anger gone. "Jughead, seriously - you have no reason to worry about that. We invited you; it will be fun."

"So sensitive, right?" Kevin said to Joaquin with a smile. "Jughead, it's _fine_. We're going with a group. Did I not mention that? There's a raft, a rope swing; it's a good time."

Jughead smiled weakly and nodded. He figured he could still stage an emergency later, when it wasn't quite so obviously a ploy.

Joaquin shot him a look when Kevin began leading them toward the forest and the lake beyond.

Jughead shrugged helplessly.

His phone buzzed in his pocket. Jughead had a feeling he knew who that was, and he didn't even look at it.

**00000**

FP wasn't sure what to do. Jughead wasn't picking up his phone, Tall Boy was - naturally - incensed and calling Jug a spoiled brat and worse, and there was no way that sending Brandon into the Southside would end in anything other than unmitigated disaster.

Finishing out his shift and then driving over to pick Jughead up sounded like a terrible idea as well.

FP wasn't sure he had a choice, though. Fred wasn't around, and he'd asked for far too many favors already.

Then he had an idea. FP had the phone numbers of all of Jughead's friends since his disappearance from their new home. FP had gotten the contact information from Jughead's phone, but he'd contacted them from his own cell.

He could text Kevin Keller.

'Kevin, this is FP. I'm looking for Jughead. Need him home. Any idea where he is?'

That sounded almost innocent enough. Certainly it was vague enough.

FP went back to work, but kept his phone handy.

**00000**

Jughead swam out to the raft and climbed up onto it. The water was fairly chilly, but it was nice in the sun and it was also a relief to find that he was confident in the water. After his near-drowning, Brand had suggested this would go one of two ways: another neurosis and phobia, or a new confidence in the water. Jughead wasn't sure his confidence had actually increased, but at least his body seemed to understand that he was unlikely to drown when he wasn't chained down.

Which was really helpful, considering he'd been planning a wreck diving vacation.

Trigger still wouldn't come near the water, and Jughead could hear him from the raft. The dog seemed to be worried about Jughead and was alternately whining and barking from where Jughead had secured his leash when it became clear that Trig would not swim with him.

Jughead sighed and thought about just getting back into the water and going home. Trig might be the excuse he needed in order to leave, and getting rid of Jughead seemed very important to everyone who had gathered on the small beach. Except Kevin, who hadn't seemed to notice the glances. He really, _really_ liked Joaquin and sometimes the rest of the world seemed to melt away for him. Which was coming in handy today, since Jughead didn't particularly want him to know that he'd done something dumb. Again.

FP was going to be mad, Jughead was pretty sure. This really hadn't been his brightest move.

"Jughead!" Kevin was waving to him now from the beach. "Come back in! Your dad's looking for you."

He'd texted Keller. Maybe called him. Jughead sighed. There was officially no chance that he was not in deep trouble.

Jughead waved back in acknowledgment and pushed off into the water.

He'd taken about two strokes toward the shore when he felt something brush against his leg - and then someone grabbed his foot and jerked him down. Jughead was barely able to gasp in a breath before he was pulled under the water.

Jughead opened his eyes underwater, trying to see who was messing with him, but the lake was a lot clearer from above than it was when his eyes were burning from the lake silt. He couldn't make out much beyond a vague outline.

Attempting to defend himself underwater was new, but Jughead figured it was basically the same thing he'd been trained for. He reached toward the figure, ready to do damage and send a message.

The figure grabbed him first, and they grappled for just a few moments before their heads broke the surface.

It was Joaquin.

He was laughing.

Jughead began treading water and immediately decided that he didn't want to try and deal with the Serpent any further in the lake. It was too much of a disadvantage, since Joaquin seemed really comfortable out here and had clearly chosen to come after him this way because he was confident it would work in his favor. Instead of escalating anything, Jughead turned away and swam in to the shore. He was done; this was not what he'd signed up for.

"Joaquin getcha?" An older Serpent whom Jughead did not recognize met him at the water's edge.

Jughead eyed him as he stepped out of the water, but didn't answer.

"He's a good boy." The Serpent winked. "Sometimes only does a job halfway, but his heart's in the right place."

Jughead moved away quickly. He heard Trigger increasing his volume, and figured his dog had the right idea. They needed to get out of here now.

**00000**

**New iron (sort of - I think we saw this coming!), meet fire. I hope you enjoyed! Thanks for reading;**** I'll love hearing from you if you are able to leave a review as well. It will be a particular encouragement this week as the next chapter starts pulling strings (so many strings!) into position for this story! :)**

**-Button**


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter Three! Woo-hoo!**

**Thank you for the wonderful and encouraging reviews! August is doing its August thing, but you all made it easy to find time and motivation to return again and again to this chapter. Which had its difficult patches.**

**Thank you for the great insights, Living Lucid Dream - I am so glad that the differences between Jug's relationship with Brand versus with FP are making sense. I am loving the interplay, and I think it's obvious that dynamic is central to this story (at least so far!), so clarity now will save us headaches later. Whew! And I think that if fanfiction grows out of a love of something paired with frustration about a road not taken (oooh, theories!), then the Serpents and Joaquin are a big motivator for me (salty? Yelling at screen? Explaining entire show just to then complain about one plot point? What _is_ reasonable, anyway?). The Serpents will hopefully continue to be menacing (and just plain make sense) as we go!**

**Skyrider45, you made it! So quickly, too! That was the Easter egg in itself (leaving a note for you to find whenever), so you can sleep now (sorry I didn't get back to you sooner! Sleep is important!). ;) 'Offbeat buddy cops' literally had not occurred to me as a characterization, and now I cannot unsee them as Tango and Cash ("Bad cop... worse cop."). Thanks for some incredible mental images. :-D I'm glad you're liking that dynamic, and thanks for the concern as well: I am more confident about this story's trajectory (ahhh, the relief) and I think the issue will likely be sprawl. Not "how many sequels can we get from what was originally supposed to be one story" sprawl (I am motivated!), but just "this might be long-ish" sprawl. BTW, I loved your observation about how I use "good boy." I really don't like that phrase IRL, so it makes sense... and I'll be on the lookout now. :)**

**Guest, thanks for the kind review! And here is more! :) I was nervous about entering Serpent territory, and we'll see how that plays out. I'm really glad it's worrisome and not more "oh man, here we go." I totally agree about poor Jughead, too. He finally gets his head on straight and now he doesn't get to hang out and be normal for totally different reasons. It's a raw deal. Hopefully things will improve soon, though...**

**Enjoy!**

**-Button**

**00000**

Brandon brought take-out for Sunday lunch, though FP was not convinced that it was a peace offering since he had not let them know he'd be doing that. There was already chicken roasting on their new grill, but when Brandon held up the Chinese food Jughead's enthusiasm had been difficult to hide.

The power plays continued.

And Brandon was even more upset than FP about Jughead going into the Southside the previous day. Suddenly FP's anger-fueled lecture about how Jughead agreeing to keep his phone on and handy implied actually _answering_ it, leaving a note was _not_ a substitute for texting, and a bunch of stuff he'd hated hearing himself say about 'food on the table and a roof over our heads' - since he'd seriously considered walking off the job to pick Jughead up, and that job wasn't going to just be there if he kept having to do that sort of thing - didn't seem so bad.

Because Brandon was livid.

"Did you even _think_ about what happened when we were living in the trailer?" Brandon pinned Jughead down with a stare.

"Um. Yeah. But that-," Jughead broke off and was obviously thinking too hard to just be recalling facts; FP was starting to recognize the additional effort he had to put into lying, at least when he was doing it to both Brandon and his father at the same time. Not that FP was going to tip Jughead off regarding his newfound lie-detecting talent. But it was clear that there were at least two versions of that story in play, and likely neither were wholly truthful.

"No 'buts,' kid," Brandon addressed Jughead while holding up a finger in front of FP to forestall whatever he might have contributed. FP let Brandon talk, but amused himself by seriously considering the pros and cons of snapping Brandon's finger right off of his hand. "They attacked you, dragged you kicking and screaming into the woods, and I knifed one of 'em in the process of getting you back."

Based on his expression, that was not entirely how Jughead remembered it playing out - in any version.

And it was not even _close_ to how FP had been told the story.

"No tattoos, no criminal record, and - hey, just for fun - how about not winding up a retaliatory sacrifice either," Brandon crossed his arms and leaned back in his chair at the dining room table.

FP's eyes narrowed at that. It was his first time hearing that Brandon had laid down rules of this nature for Jughead, and it seemed to cross even more lines than usual into parental territory.

"He can have a tattoo. Depending on the tattoo," FP glared at Jughead to keep this from looking anything like permission. "Nothing that will keep you out of college or make you unemployable, and you had better be eighteen before you even _start _planning one."

"No tattoos," Brandon reiterated. He didn't look at FP; there was a message in his tone for Jughead, and nobody else.

Jughead squirmed.

"Are we boring you?" Brandon reached for Jughead's wrist where it rested on the table.

Jughead whipped his hand out of reach and his chair moved an inch or two away from Brandon.

Trigger's new dog tags jingled as he got up from the couch to investigate what had spooked his owner.

"_Don't touch him_," FP watched this exchange darkly, filing it away with the rest of the information he'd been steadily gathering by observing his son's interactions with Brandon. This was not helping Brandon's case for resuming after-school shifts at the house with Jughead. There were not a lot of good options, but FP was getting increasingly worried that the arrangement might be inviting Brandon to revive the skittering habits with which Jughead had returned from his captivity in Toronto.

The ones he'd only been starting to shake off over the last couple of weeks.

"The real issue is that we need-" darn Brandon, he'd gotten him using 'we' "-I mean _I_ need to be able to trust that you won't be getting into trouble when you're left home alone. Or else you can't be left home alone."

"I only went to hang out with Kevin," Jughead had already explained this, and was repeating it as if his good intentions could somehow change what had happened. It was honestly somewhat endearing that he believed that, but even more pressingly - it was dangerous.

"The moment he mentioned The Wyrm, you should have been done," FP tried to soften his harsh tone. After all, he'd been telling stories for weeks that probably made the Serpents sound more like a fraternity than a gang. He'd even thought about introducing Jughead around and letting him join some of the martial arts sparring that FP was certain still went on in some form. Even after this weekend's dramatic misstep, letting the Serpents see Jug trash a few people twice his size was probably not a bad move.

No, Jughead wasn't crazy for thinking it would be okay to go swimming in a lake with friends of his father, and he had no idea that he'd become Tall Boy's refrain: that everything - everything! - would be better for the Serpents if Jughead wasn't around and FP came back in his former capacity. And it was important to keep in mind that Tall Boy might not be the most stable person in the world - but neither was he the least stable of the Serpents.

It was almost enough to make FP threaten to quit permanently and cut all remaining ties with the Serpents if anything happened to his son.

Except that would make Jughead a target for anyone who decided that they preferred that outcome.

And apparently Brandon had made interacting with Jughead a blood sport. While in prison awaiting trial for Jason Blossom's murder, FP had been told that Jughead was 'looked in on,' and that he had given assurances that he was fine. FP had hit the roof, knowing that Brandon might well take that little visit out on his hostage. Now, though, FP apparently needed to find out if some of the Serpents had abducted his boy, terrified him for no good reason, and then involved him in a knife fight.

Communication had never been the gang's strong point, but this was ludicrous.

And somehow FP needed to avoid losing custody of Jughead in the process. Social workers who thought the dog was a bad idea - and even now Trigger was lying under Jughead's feet and watching Brandon's every move, a sure sign that Jughead was still tense - would no doubt be far more upset if they learned that FP had any sort of meaningful contact with the Serpents. Let alone if they caught wind that he was meting out discipline.

FP was starting to feel like he was surrounded by rocks and hard places.

Brandon picked up his water glass. As he stood to refill it, Jughead tucked his chair in closer to the table and did everything but duck away from his so-called 'godfather' and his obvious agitation. Trigger growled.

FP had the distinct feeling that he was screwing this up royally. A nanny cam wasn't going to stop the non-verbal posturing and coded threats, either.

All of this was complicated by the dynamic that had been bedeviling FP ever since Brandon had started playing rougher with Jughead over the last ten days. His son had (predictably) responded with some measure of fear and anger, but (less predictably) neither response seemed to be directed toward Brandon.

Instead, today's conversation excepted, Jughead seemed to gravitate toward Brandon like he was a safe haven - even when Brandon's words and body language were nothing short of menacing. Sometimes Jughead would literally lean into what sounded for all the world like threats, accepting Brandon's arm around his shoulders and affectionate head pats as if he had offered protection from danger and not literally issued the warning himself.

There was definitely something here that FP was missing.

Based on his experience with the Serpents, it actually looked quite a bit like someone was leveraging or threatening the two in such a way that they'd self-protectively closed ranks with FP on the outside of their unit. Which meant it couldn't be about the notes, since they were all working together on figuring those out.

But it was hard to imagine anyone threatening or blackmailing Brandon in a manner that actually affected his behavior - and surviving for long. And Jughead was behaving inconsistently, like he wasn't entirely sure what was going on - what he should or shouldn't do - almost as if he was relying on Brandon's coded threats to tell him how to navigate the situation from one day to the next.

Which would _also _be consistent with Brandon inventing the whole thing.

A convenient ghost story about some shadowy, threatening figure - likely one who was far away but inexplicably powerful and far-reaching - would certainly keep Jughead attached to Brandon. The man could keep his son in lock-step with whatever he decreed, and gradually pry him away from friends and family.

That would also explain why Jughead was eager to keep his godfather close by, even though he was on edge around Brandon whenever there was conflict between him and FP. Which was pretty much constantly. FP had raised the topic of why Jughead was trying to appease Brandon more than a few times; on every occasion Jughead had shut the conversation down without so much as attempting an explanation.

FP really wished it could be as simple as Brandon sending the notes; in that case, he could kick Brandon out and it would solve everything. But it just didn't fit.

And Brandon _might _be telling Jughead ghost stories in order to gain power over his son - but after everything that had happened, FP knew that he had to seriously consider the possibility that there might just be a threat that both Brandon and Jughead knew about but were not discussing with anyone else. Perhaps even for very good reasons.

So far, FP didn't see any easy way of sussing it out. As much fun as it would be to work up a _real _interrogation of Brandon, there was no way that FP could trust any information he got directly from Davies.

Also, the odds that he would retain custody of Jughead after pulling something like that were very low.

Admittedly, a lot of the issues could be picking up speed because Jughead was reassessing whether FP could protect him from Brandon, should their aggressive standoff eventually devolve into violence. FP had obviously not yet conveyed firmly enough that he would not allow that - would not give Brandon the satisfaction of goading FP onto his home turf of hand-to-hand combat - and that any battle with Brandon could be fought and won without a single punch being thrown.

Non-violent methods for establishing dominance could take time to show obvious results, but FP had navigated the approach before in many contexts. Successfully leading a gang for years only rarely meant bloodying one's knuckles - a short-term strategy if ever there was one - but the mind games and strategic machinations were a daily occurrence.

So FP knew what he was talking about. Short of an actual custody battle, which Brandon would have trouble initiating and could never win, there was no contest here.

But if there _was _something else going on, then the moment FP sent Brandon packing he might be left blind to a serious threat, and therefore unable to protect his son.

Or maybe, FP thought darkly, the target audience of any ghost stories was not ultimately Jughead. Maybe Brandon wanted him to _believe _that, but he was actually feeding Jughead fairy tales of danger in order to scare FP into keeping Brandon around.

In which case it was working. Davies might be pulling his strings, and even the possibility of that bothered FP deeply, but without more information he would not risk finding out the hard way that the danger had been real all along.

**00000**

"Listen, someone slipped me something and I don't even remember much about that day."

Agent Tobias Russell was finding the drug dealers difficult to work with; it seemed like they'd lawyered up very effectively and had an inconveniently clear understanding that there wasn't much that Russell could do at this point.

He'd been barred once again from the official investigation, and it was starting to look like one more data point in a trend: the Bureau wanted him away from Jones. Russell had been forced to take personal time to make this trip, and he knew he was on thin ice with this gambit.

It had to pay out.

Agent Donn had not come along - did not know about this trip - but Russell figured they could share the credit for whatever he turned up. Donn had found the words in the debriefing that cracked the kid into very nearly talking. Jones had been potently scared, at long last, and the words had begun falling out of him - at least for a few moments.

It was just bad luck that the kid had chosen then to simply shut up and take his chances with silence. It was really hard to do much with no statement. From a minor who'd already very nearly completed the entire debriefing process. With a lawyer rattling cages from outside of the process.

For that reason, Russell figured he'd be generous with Donn once he'd gotten the breakthrough. So far this seemed like a very dead end, though. Apparently the great drug bust in Toronto had been a fluke, at least for Jones, since he'd royally mucked up this small-time, entirely unsanctioned raid. The criminals who'd been arrested were going to walk on all drug-related charges and were only up for kidnapping and attempted murder. Serious enough, but clearly the kid had tainted all other evidence when he'd barrelled through the situation.

And the defendants didn't even know Jones' name. To them he was 'the kid who walks the dog.'

Some infiltration effort that had turned out to be; going undercover as a dog-walker did not appear to have gotten him anywhere. Jones had made it only a few steps into the house, been beaten unconscious, and then they'd tied him up and attempted to drown him in order to then - somehow - stage an accidental drowning somewhere in the kid's normal hiking area.

Russell really wondered how any of them - Jones included - had survived this long while being that incompetent.

The dead end had yielded a few notes of interest, though: among other things, there was a dog in the mix now, and if Jones had learned anything at all from Davies he wouldn't have let a useful tool slip away. Russell bet the dog was living with him now, being trained to become much the same kind of weapon that Davies had shaped Jones himself into. The kid had probably even followed suit and gotten attached to the dog along the way.

Not that Russell could do a whole lot with this information: Davies was currently in Riverdale, getting his hooks back into Jones, which complicated things immensely.

It was a possible opening, though. Russell would keep investigating for the moment, and bide his time. But he was seeing the handwriting on the wall with his bosses and colleagues: he might soon _need _this break in order to recover his standing with the FBI. Thankfully, he knew he could bring it home.

No question.

**00000**

On Monday Jughead was really tired. His dad had woken him up early for an even longer lecture than normal on what not to do.

Brand was barred from coming over until FP got home from work that evening, though he would be by his cell phone in case of emergencies - or any suspicious deviations showing up on the tracking app. It was a trial, and Jughead knew that everyone was being judged on their capacity for good behavior. They'd - all three - do homework and study together tonight and try to get everyone back on a good page. His dad would then make decisions about Tuesday, and so on.

Jughead was resolved to be a model citizen.

But then at school everyone awkwardly tried not to talk about their weekend with him at lunch, and Archie got weirdly tense again when Jughead mentioned the math class he shared with Veronica. And he did receive an F on his essay in History. And his Literature teacher pulled him aside to discuss a writing-related scholarship - which sounded really promising - and halfway through their talk the teacher realized that Jughead would be ineligible since he had missed so much of the school year and thus several requirements for the scholarship.

After all of that, Reggie intentionally bumping into him in the hallway was something Jughead was ready to lean into, and it was only bad luck when Reggie stumbled - rather dramatically - a few steps to the side. Right into Betty.

"Oooh, Jones-," Reggie quickly put an arm around Betty to steady her as he regained his balance and tried not to knock her down in the process. "You need to remember that we have members of the fairer sex around. Save it for the drug dealers."

Jughead ignored the dig and tried to apologize to Betty, but she was busy extricating herself from Reggie's arms and then picking up the books she'd dropped - and before he could say much of anything she was moving away too quickly toward the classroom that was devoted to _The Blue and Gold_. A location on campus where Jughead was not even supposed to step foot.

Which might not have been an accident.

Jughead was scaring himself a little with his aggressive bursts, and he knew it was only a matter of time before people started to pick up on the fact that his fuse was suddenly a lot shorter than he was used to - and that his temper had become more difficult to anticipate and control.

He thought this through briefly, and decided to follow Betty and make sure that she at least got the apology. Jughead had already let her get around the corner toward the classroom space devoted to the school newspaper, so he chanced a quick jog through the hall to try and catch up.

Jughead rounded the corner, and pulled up short - and found himself very nearly mimicking Reggie's recovery, but with Alice Carter.

"Hey, Jonas, trying to make it three?" Alice managed to grab Jughead's hands when they came up defensively; she pushed back and redirected his momentum before his arms went around her to keep himself from causing a bad collision. Alice's countering movement allowed Jughead to miss her entirely, and instead they rotated to trade positions in the hallway, almost like they were dancing.

"No," Jughead felt himself turning red. This was the first time they'd spoken since the lunchtime conversation before he'd read her article. He'd since learned all about her father's case, and her involvement defending Daniel. And yet... somehow she was still Alice, in spite of everything.

Jughead wondered if he'd ever see her as anything other than his only friend when he'd needed one most.

"Okay," Alice dropped his hands now. "You're excused."

"How magnanimous." Jughead realized he was smirking, and he wanted to kick himself. What was wrong with him?

"Oooh, SAT prep party at your place," Alice raised an eyebrow but smiled. "How are you doing with finals and all?"

"'The worst is not, so long as we can say 'this is the worst,''" Jughead said drily.

"Very dark. Let me guess: more Shakespeare," Alice rolled her eyes when Jughead shrugged. "You really need to read further afield. This is getting sad."

"Maybe," Jughead was getting tongue-tied now and wasn't sure why he was still standing here. It had clearly not been his day, he needed to apologize to Betty, and he was - problematically - talking to Alice. Again.

"Wait, wait - I've actually got one - you'll quote someone else 'tomorrow and tomorrow and tomorrow,'" Alice looked triumphant.

"Now who's being dark?" Jughead shook his head and smiled, in spite of himself. "That's some serious existential dread, even for you."

"But it was really easy to memorize, which is pretty much what I look for in a quote. 'Double, double toil and trouble' is another good one. It rhymes, so it's easy to remember, _and_ it perfectly describes your approach to life." Alice grinned when Jughead looked even more off balance in response to her declaration. He wasn't always so easy to fluster; it was cute.

"Hey, are you walking Trigger today?" Alice changed the subject abruptly.

"Uh, yeah," Jughead wondered if he should just walk away. His mouth kept moving, though. "I take him out to the clearing in Fox Forest most days."

"Okay." Alice sized him up one more time and then walked away with a wave. "Keep the faith, Trouble."

Jughead stared after her. He shook his head as if to clear it, and then turned to continue following Betty.

And there she was, standing in the hallway. Watching him.

Crap.

**00000**

Jughead took Trigger out later that afternoon. Betty's words were still playing in his head.

She'd thought he looked 'chatty' with Alice. He had been a little 'scary' with Reggie. He was 'off' when they'd had lunch.

Betty wanted to spend more time together, but she didn't have a plan. Jughead didn't have options. He'd gladly show up at her house and brave her parents' scrutiny and judgment, but Betty didn't have a good time in mind for that and seemed reluctant to put them both through the ordeal that it would no doubt become.

Jughead couldn't break the rules right now. Sneaking around honestly sounded really appealing - just getting off the radar and having a relaxing afternoon - but he was already on thin ice with everyone. Literally everyone. And really, couldn't they just go one week without some source of crazy stress?

Betty hadn't liked that response. Jughead probably hadn't said it as nicely as he could - should - have, either.

Jughead reached his clearing and pulled out the tennis ball. Trigger was thrilled to get off leash, and Jughead envied him: it was so easy for the dog to know when the leash was removed and he was free. He could just run, and the rules were clear. Leash; no leash.

Jughead suspected he hadn't really experienced much 'no leash' recently and that might be part of the problem.

But he was out with Trigger. Focusing on the good parts of his day, Jughead threw the tennis ball for a bit and then began a game of Trigger Ball. It felt good to stretch, to run, and to try a handspring when he was inspired by some of Trig's ungainly somersaults in the grass.

Laughing at his dog's antics and feeling much more relaxed, Jughead finally crashed in the middle of the clearing and Trig joined him to curl up and enjoy the late afternoon sun.

"It was code, right?" A voice unexpectedly rang out in the clearing.

Jughead scrambled to his feet and Trigger snarled dangerously. Alice was standing at the edge of the forest.

"No, Trig." Jughead gestured to his dog firmly. "Alice? What are you doing here?"

"You mentioned coming here," Alice looked embarrassed now. "I thought - you know, that you couldn't say anything in front of your friends, or the teachers and all. But nobody would know if we occasionally ran into each other here."

"Uh," Jughead's mind raced. This was such a bad idea. "How exactly would that work?"

"I'm not sure," Alice looked encouraged. "Nothing regular or anything like that. You're here a lot, so I'd just come out on occasion. We can talk if nobody else is around. That's all."

Jughead thought it over. It was almost plausibly deniable. "I really don't know, Alice… I mean, how's your speech writing?"

"My what?"

"How good will your eulogy be at my funeral if my dad or Brand - or my god, both of them - catch us?"

Alice sighed, though she couldn't hide her smile as she walked over to offer her hand to Trigger to sniff. "What if I just sing something doleful? That I can do."

"An Irish drinking song, maybe? Just make sure you coordinate with Archie so that you don't wind up singing the same one," Jughead patted Trigger as the dog decided whether to accept Alice. "She's a friend, Trig."

Alice smiled at that.

Jughead eyed her and really hoped he was telling his dog the honest truth.

**00000**

"So I'll take Trigger out in the early afternoon and then take Jones straight from school over to the Coopers'. See that he and Betty get some face time. Maybe make some time with the mother of legends if Hal's not around."

FP choked on the chicken he'd just taken a bite of. Tensions were a lot lower this evening, which he appreciated, but Brandon seemed to be achieving that primarily at FP's expense.

Brandon smirked. "Jones, you're on board with this, right? You'll get some tutoring, I'll keep the free press well and truly occupied, and then we'll meet your dad here for dinner."

"Uh, yeah," Jughead was surprised by the suggestion but nodded enthusiastically. "Dad, that might really solve some problems. Please?"

"We also need to start some practice interview sessions and find time for a photo shoot or two. Can we get a pro photographer around here? Or am I stuck working with Jones' camera?"

FP sighed. Everyone seemed to be on their best behavior, just as he'd requested, but all the same this conversation was getting away from him. "What are you talking about now, Brandon?"

"National interview. Television. Have you not seen one before? We need some photos of Jones with the dog - because Jones, vest or no vest, Trigger's not coming with us - and a few of the kid doing non-threatening teenager things," Brand explained. "The younger you look, the better. We want everyone judging you on your limitless potential, and absolutely _not _judging what you've actually done. That means selling you as a kid, and not some _21 Jump Street_ operative who's mucking around and causing problems."

"A what?"

FP cracked a small smile at that one, loath as he was to give Brandon any encouragement. "An undercover cop posing as a highschooler, Jug. Yeah, let's avoid giving that impression."

"We'll take a few shots tonight of you with the dog. See what we get," Brandon eyed Jughead. "You might need a haircut so that we can see more of your face. No hiding; that will read as sketchy on camera."

"What are you going for?" Jughead was clearly uncomfortable. "You want me to be, what, a helpless kid? Get the pity vote?"

"You're the grasshopper," Brandon corrected. "Everyone loves the grasshopper."

"Karate Kid," FP explained.

"Yeah, I know," Jughead shot his dad a look. "We watched it more than once in Toronto."

"There are lessons in that film that you sorely needed to learn," Brandon reached over to nudge Jughead's shoulder playfully. "Such as how wimpy Goju is."

"You really could have told me I was learning Krav," Jughead realized that he'd never had this conversation with Brandon. "That was kind of embarrassing to find out in the middle of a training session. Or whatever that was."

"Keating?" Brandon laughed. "My only regret is that I wasn't there to witness the carnage. FP, don't you know how to work the video on your phone?"

"Oh, I won't be missing an opportunity like that again," FP smiled. It seemed that he and Brandon had common ground this evening after all: when they shared a vision for Jughead it was suddenly a whole lot easier to work together. "Okay; haircut and photos. Practice interview questions. Is he going to need new clothing?"

"He might," Brandon assessed Jughead's outfit critically, and FP leaned to one side to see his son's clothing better around the dining room table.

"First person who suggests a Little Lord Fauntleroy getup dies," Jughead said with as much dignity as he could muster under the circumstances. He thought for a moment. "Hey, can I get some gear for Trig?"

FP had finally thought to inquire about the balance of his son's 'expenses' fund... and locked it away from easy access before the end of that business day. He was actually shocked to see how little Jughead had withdrawn, but as the situation with his son continued to shift rapidly FP was not sure he could count on that trend continuing. No teenager needed that kind of money at their disposal.

Interestingly, Jughead had seemed relieved when they went to the bank and set that up. It could be that the money itself had been stressful, but FP's counselor had suggested - when he'd asked, since he felt a little mean for securing Jughead's own money away from him - that the act of keeping Jughead's funds set aside and available for college was one of love. And that it said to Jughead very clearly that FP intended to take care of him, and did not expect him to pay his own way out of his own bank account.

That did mean they were back to conversations like this one, which was both good and bad: FP knew what was going on and had input again, but they also had more conflict. Particularly since Jughead's extremely sparing use of his own funds did not seem to line up with his attitude toward FP providing for him and that dog.

"Hm… matching?" Brandon looked from Jughead to Trigger and back again.

"_No_, not matching," Jughead was horrified. "Why would you even _say _that?"

"It might read well on camera. We should consider it," FP offered now, catching Brandon's drift. He paused for a moment. "Pirates, you think?"

"I was leaning more toward ninjas, but I could be persuaded," Brandon smirked.

Jughead crossed his arms and leaned back in his chair. "You are _not _funny."

"True," Brandon agreed easily.

"We're hilarious," FP grinned at his son.

**00000**

**I hope you enjoyed! I'm really getting into this one, and the crazy dynamics in play... Thank you again for the reviews! I'll really enjoy hearing how this chapter went, as the trajectory of the story is becoming clearer... :)**

**-Button**


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter Four!**

**Thanks for the review, Skyrider45! I fought and fought with the writing of FP's analysis, and I am relieved it made sense. He's a complicated human! And the whiplash of dynamics with him and Brand was fun to write; I am glad you laughed, because I laughed about your vision of throwing Archie into the matching outfits crew. :) He deserves to be interviewed. He really does. We'll see what develops!**

**Thank you for your lovely review as well, Living Lucid Dream! The Serpents will be with us for some time, yes, and more ticking time bombs are fun, right? :) And yeah, the more I worked through FP's position in all of this, the more it was clear that he's bringing some serious slow-burn skills (not to mention alliteration, haha) to the table. FP seems like the "last man standing" type to me, even when he starts at a disadvantage. Russell is complicated, and I love your almost-sympathy for him. I think you pointed out before that if this were a totally different story but he still had basically the same set of facts, he could be the tenacious hero (scary thought!). Team Alice for the win! :-D Their conversations are literally the easiest thing to write in the stories because they have such a distinct vibe. And I am _inordinately_ proud of inspiring an ugly snort-laugh. Yay! :-D**

**Thank you for reviewing, Guest! I am glad you liked FP's analysis - and how the tattoo thing is such an obvious marker for the biggest differences between Brand and FP. And you liked Reggie! I am glad - I'm probably going to need to write more of him, because he is an important part of S1 dynamics. Yay for more Team Alice, too! And yeah, even when they talk, it's complicated... I have a feeling her arc is going to continue to be wild. :)**

**Enjoy!**

**-Button**

**00000**

"You have to help me," Jughead spoke quietly to Betty. "They've become a comedy duo."

Betty stepped around Jughead with a 'be serious' look and hugged Brand enthusiastically. She hadn't seen him since their reunion in the hospital, and Jughead saw in a glance that Brand's one-person fan club might actually be something more like a mutual admiration club.

This did not bode well.

"Hey, Betty," Brand lit up and returned the hug with just as much enthusiasm. "It's great to see you."

"Hello, Brandon," Alice Cooper's eyebrow was already up. Jughead took a deep, fortifying breath before he attempted to get past her to the staircase.

"Hi, um, it's good to see you, Mrs. Cooper - but we've really gotta study," Jughead smiled somewhat desperately. He was suddenly feeling vastly outnumbered even though nothing about the number of people had actually changed in the last few moments. "Finals are in a week."

"Oh, no. You didn't actually think you were going upstairs," Alice laughed, and what could have been a question coming from someone else was definitely a statement coming from her. "You'll be at the table, where we can keep an eye on you."

Brand did not look any more thrilled with the declaration than Jughead was.

"Alice, I was thinking-,"

"Oh, I'm sorry. Brandon, by all means, where do _you_ think my daughter should be tutoring a troubled teenage boy?" Alice's tone was facetious, but she seemed to be waiting for a response.

Betty looked mortified. "Mom. _Please_."

"What, Betty?" Alice suddenly sounded innocent, but her expression as she turned to her daughter was nothing short of a dare.

"You know what? The dining room is great. In fa-act, how about a third person to help with the studying?" Brand tried to get things moving forward. He shot Jones an apologetic look. Desperate times.

Jughead's eyes widened. "Brand-,"

"In that case, why don't we make it four?" Alice led the way into the dining room.

Jughead hit Brand in the arm as his godfather stepped further into the house. Brand went to playfully retaliate, and Jughead quickly moved out of reach.

"_Would_ you refrain from violence while you are guests in my home?"

Brand and Jughead shot each other chagrined looks.

"Yes, ma'am," Brand answered.

"Sorry, Mrs. Cooper," Jughead managed.

Betty made eye contact with Jughead and this time he felt they were on the same page: united in their misery.

"So. Chemistry?" Alice Cooper's tone was bright when she held up a textbook and pulled out a chair for herself.

"Sure," Brand replied, taking a seat. "Jones?"

"Uh, yeah." Jughead willed himself to be grateful. He was getting the tutoring he'd wanted. And spending time with Betty.

His sanity was a small price to pay.

**00000**

Brand was nearly howling with laughter on the drive home.

Jughead did not share his amusement. It felt as though he'd barely gotten two words out to Betty that were not directly related to finals and coursework. Which, sure, was mostly the point - but still. A few minutes of actual talking would have been nice.

"Look, if it was anyone but Betty, I'd be giving you the old 'do you really want that woman to be the grandmother of your children' speech-" Jughead looked up in horror at Brand's words "-but I say go for it. If anyone's going to be able to cut the apron strings, you've found the woman. You'll bring home _fantastic _stories, too. Never underestimate the value of a great mother-in-law story."

"Brand-," Jughead was about to object to pretty much everything he'd just said. But they were pulling into the driveway at home, and the front door was wide open. "Hey, did you leave the door open?"

"Of course not, kid," Brand's eyes narrowed. "Get down. Stay out of sight and lock the doors. I'll come back for you once I've cleared the house."

"But Trig-"

"I'll get your dog. He might have opened the door himself. I wouldn't put it past him."

All the same, Brand approached the house cautiously.

Jughead obediently locked the car doors and waited.

Brand reappeared a couple of minutes later and waved Jughead into the house. "Trigger's missing. I think he must have somehow gotten the door open and taken off." They had opted not to buy a crate for the dog, for a variety of reasons.

"What?" Jughead hurried to the house and whistled loudly for his dog. "Trigger!"

"Hey, we'll go look for him. He probably didn't get far," Brand put a hand on Jughead's shoulder. "Let's wait for FP to get home so we have two cars and we can make a plan together. He'll probably only be a few more minutes."

"I'm going around the block at least," Jughead retrieved Trigger's leash from the house. "Trigger!"

Brand watched his godson start down the sidewalk, alternating between calling for his dog and that eardrum-shattering whistle he'd recently mastered. Brand turned back to the door, which he knew he'd locked. This didn't seem quite right.

"Wait, kid - you're not going alone," Brand held a firm hand up to halt Jones. "Stay right where you are. I'll leave your dad a note. Just in case."

Just in case someone wanted Jones out alone after dark, wandering and distracted.

Brand scribbled a note for FP.

"Just around the block. Then we take the car." It wasn't getting dark just yet, but it wouldn't be long before they started losing light.

"Thanks, Brand." Jughead started calling and whistling for Trigger again.

Brand joined in, calling Trigger as they walked around the block, but he was already fairly certain that they weren't going to find the dog. It looked to him like someone had taken the monster, and there were several motives that Brand could think of for doing that.

None of them ended well for Trigger.

**00000**

FP had gotten home from work to find Jughead and Brandon sitting on the front steps - which scared him badly. They'd been able to close ranks on so many things that it had to be something truly horrific if they were waiting out front to explain themselves to him.

And FP supposed it actually was somewhat horrific, at least to his son. Jughead seemed like his world had been thrown off its axis, even though he'd managed to order everyone around like a general as folks came out and joined the search.

FP was very thankful that everyone lifted their ban, at least temporarily, to help look for Trigger. The Andrews family, Betty, Veronica, and Kevin all searched their assigned portions of Riverdale for a number of hours, and a few neighbors they hadn't even met offered to pitch in when they realized what had happened.

They'd finally called off the hunt at eleven pm, though, and sent everyone home; it was a school night and they hadn't turned up anything at all. Hopefully Trigger would simply show up at home, or someone would bring him in to be scanned for the chip that went along with his new tags.

It was around one am when FP realized that he was the only one in the house trying to sleep.

Brandon had offered to stay over, since it was clear that Jughead was putting on a brave face but was badly shaken. And so, when Brandon offered to crash on the couch, FP decided that they were united enough in their response to Trigger's disappearance that it would likely go smoothly. At least for one night.

Now FP heard hushed voices in the living room, and he realized that Jughead was out of bed and talking with his 'godfather.'

This was another tough one.

Eavesdropping was immensely tempting.

FP quickly realized that, whatever his decision about listening in, he wouldn't be able to get back to sleep anytime soon. He padded quietly out toward the steps down to the living room. Maybe he'd announce himself, but 'accidentally' hear just a little bit before he did so. It seemed like a compromise he could live with.

"Do you think someone stole him?"

"If someone did, they'll be dropping him back off pronto, kid."

"He's a purebred."

"He's a werewolf."

"Yeah, kind of," Jughead seemed reassured by that. "He knows his way back here, too."

"You bet."

It all sounded innocuous enough.

"Got room for one more?" FP asked quietly, starting down the stairs.

"Hey, dad. You can't sleep either?" Jughead was sprawled under Brandon's bedding on the couch while his godfather was sitting up on the other end of the couch, by his feet. It looked like Brandon might have made a bid for Jughead to try to fall asleep while they talked.

FP appreciated that.

"Not with a vigil going on in the living room," FP yawned.

"He's not dead," Jughead's tone was defensive.

"Vigils are usually for the living, kid," Brandon patted Jughead's feet through the blankets. "That's a good SAT word for you."

"I'm not going to school tomorrow," Jughead declared then, apparently making the connection between the SATs and going to class in the morning. "I'm going out to look for Trig again."

"You have to go-," FP was pulling up a chair so he could sit with them in the living room.

"I'll go," Brandon interrupted, forestalling the argument that was sure to follow. "Your dad's right; you have to go to school. I do have to get my work done at some point, but tomorrow I'll take the day off to look for Trigger, okay?"

"Okay. Bring bacon." Jughead adjusted his position on Brandon's pillow and closed his eyes. Apparently the reality of getting up for school made him more serious about falling asleep. "He'll come to anyone - even you - for bacon."

"I'll buy a few pounds tomorrow," Brandon responded before apparently realizing that did not sound encouraging. "...So that Trigger has a treat when he's back home."

"Good idea," Jughead yawned now, and his voice was getting thick with sleep.

"Thanks, Brandon," FP had to work the next day, and he'd been worried when he realized there was quite likely to be conflict about leaving the search until the following afternoon.

"No problem. It's a lot more effective than melatonin," Brandon shrugged.

Jughead's breathing was evening out into his sleep pattern remarkably quickly.

"_What_?" FP was not sure what they were suddenly talking about, but already it _really _did not sound good.

"Oh-," Brandon motioned toward Jughead. "He wasn't falling asleep. He can't miss school right now, and he needs to get decent grades on those finals."

FP blinked, and then it came together for him: "You _drugged_ him?" He was on his feet and shaking Jughead in a moment. "Jug? Wake up!"

FP scooped Jughead up from the couch before Brandon had time to respond, and began carrying him toward the bathroom. Sure enough, the teen was unresponsive in FP's arms.

"What is _wrong_ with you, Brandon? Come help me - we're getting whatever you gave him out of his stomach right now."

"That's not safe, FP. He could aspirate," Brandon stood and grabbed FP's arm. "Just put him to bed and I'll keep an eye on him. It's mild; he won't be too groggy in the morning, and with some coffee we'll have him in school with a lot more brain cells than if he'd stayed up all night worrying."

FP rounded on him, but couldn't do much with Jughead in his arms. "You _attacked_ him. Right here in our home. Brandon, I've been giving you the benefit of a whole world of doubts, but I was wrong. You are dangerously unhinged, and you mark my words - you won't be coming near him unsupervised again."

FP swiftly adjusted his grip as Jughead began to slip. "It's time for you to leave. I think you'd better follow through on your promise to my boy - go and look for Trigger tomorrow - but you stay _away_ from this house. Stay _far_ away from Jughead. And if I _ever_ catch you anywhere near him again without my explicit permission - I will shoot you."

Brandon held his hands up in a show of acquiescence. "You are seriously overreacting, FP. It's a nothing drug. The kid took it himself. I'll go, but you're going to sleep on this and realize that you're flipping out over nothing."

FP doubted that.

"Did you tell him it would help him sleep?" FP's tone had a dangerous edge to it. "Or did you say that he'd be unconscious? That anyone could do _anything_ to him and he'd have no ability to stop them, fight back, or even form memories?"

Brandon's silence said everything.

"Get out." FP turned away and carried Jughead toward his bedroom. "Don't you even _think_ about contacting my son again before you hear from me."

Brand gathered his things and left.

**00000**

FP did not sleep that night.

There were suddenly so many things that he was afraid had been going on right under his nose. So many things that could have happened in Toronto or in the trailer last fall. It was terrifying to consider that the extent of Jughead's psychological scarring might be minimal compared to what it should be - if he had been able to retain all his memories of his months with Brandon.

FP felt like he might never sleep again.

Instead he pulled a chair up beside Jughead's bed and waited patiently for him to wake up. Made sure he kept breathing. Watched to see that nothing happened, nothing came near, while his son was incapacitated and helpless right here in his own bed.

The room needed a smoke detector, FP realized. Not that it would make any difference if something were to happen right now. Not that it had made one lick of difference when Brandon had left his son, bound and terrified, to die alone in their trailer.

FP leaned back in his chair and rubbed his eyes hard. He wanted to call Fred. He wanted to make an appointment with his counselor. Hell, he wanted a couple's counseling session with Jug.

Under other circumstances, FP realized that he probably would have wanted a drink. But the idea of losing even a tiny fraction of his mental faculties was suddenly, obviously, the worst idea in the world.

This was overwhelming. In the time since Jughead had been found alive in Toronto, FP had assumed that what he saw was what they had to deal with. Jughead would share information as he was ready and able, and they'd work through it together.

That seemed so naïve to him now.

Brandon had taken his son away for months, and to this day Jughead only knew what his kidnapper wanted him to know about that time.

FP shuddered.

No, he _really_ didn't think he was overreacting.

**00000**

Brand was an idiot.

Now, giving Jones a drug had objectively been the right call. And Brand sincerely hoped that FP knew enough to keep a close eye on the kid overnight, just as Brand had fully intended to do. Jones and drugs were often an unpredictable combination.

But telling FP he'd given the kid a sleep aid - okay, something stronger than an over-the-counter sleep aid, but with a conveniently shorter half life - had been a colossal blunder. Obviously.

Brand leaned back in the driver's seat of his rental car and reflected on how the whole thing had played out. Jones had been agitated and unable to sleep; he'd requested 'something to help' and willingly taken the pills; Brand had told him they would 'knock him out,' his exact words, and it seemed like that was clear enough. It wasn't like Jones had started panicking or fighting the drugs when they kicked in.

FP had made it sound a little different, though, and Brand couldn't shake the idea that maybe - just this once - the kid's father had a point. Jones would never have willingly taken the pills if he'd known they would leave him dead to the world for hours. Brand didn't need him that far under for his safety or protection, either; it had primarily been for convenience. It was a drug that would do the job well, and it was something he'd had handy.

Crap.

Sometimes Brand forgot that he was no longer the kid's guardian. Or that the kid was no longer a hostage and a high-risk target. Something along those lines. He had some bad habits, lazy habits, from back when he really couldn't afford to take the time and devote energy to keeping Jones on track. Brand had needed to just tie him down, drug him up, and force him bodily out of harm's way.

It was time he stopped doing that.

This was going to take some thought, though, since Brand wasn't entirely sure what that would look like. Maybe FP's order that he steer clear for a while was not a bad one after all.

Not that he'd be leaving his car or this street tonight. Not when he suspected that someone had just taken Jones' dog from the house. That was bold, and there were several immediate benefits to anyone who might be trying to get at the kid: knowledge of the house, removal of the Joneses' most alert source of warning, and also possession of a very potent means of luring the kid. And Brand just knew it: when it came to Trigger, he _would_ be lured.

As Brand got comfortable in the seat, he thought about how the conversation was likely to go between FP and Jones in the morning, and he winced. Yeah, he'd screwed up all right. Hopefully he'd get a chance at a do-over.

It was beginning to seem like teenagers were a little more challenging to work with than Brand had once believed.

**00000**

**I hope you enjoyed! (and, lest you think I am heartless, this chapter could definitely be titled "OMG TRIGGER'S MISSING? WHAT HAVE I DONE?!") Thanks for continuing to read along; I'll look forward to hearing your thoughts as things continue to get complicated... and I hope you have a great start to the week!**

**-Button**


	5. Chapter 5

**And it continues! After kind of a _cliffhanger_, I guess... :) (I love how invested folks are in FP and Brand working things out!)**

**Thank you for the generous review, Living Lucid Dream! It is always great to hear that readers and Brand are on the same page. ;) And yes... poor Trig. And poor FP. He has to consider all the possibilities, but that can lead to sleep deprivation. And Brand surprised us all with that line about melatonin (he is counterintuitively one of the more predictable characters... but not that time!), and my impression after the first draft was: "Wow. Brand might be capable of actual growth." We'll see! **

**Thank you for your review, aut189! I really loved that you took a second shot at getting to the story when gmail didn't hook you up. That's what everyone wants to hear (minus gmail giving trouble, of course!). You are entirely right, too - Brand made it to his car and no further, so I think he's going to hang in there.**

**Skyrider45, thanks for the review - you made me laugh. "Alice Cooper in the house" is how I feel every time she shows up. And I am glad everyone feels as strongly as I do (as Jug does) about Trigger being gone. Also: "Baby steps forward, bounds and leaps backward" is a fantastic tagline for Brand and FP's relationship. :-D**

**Enjoy!**

**-Button **

**00000**

"Have some coffee," FP pushed a mug toward Jughead, sighing with resignation.

"I'm not supposed to drink coffee," Jughead was sitting at the dining room table, but was slumped over it and his head was resting on his arms. He was wiped out, and FP hadn't been able to bring himself to begin the conversation that they needed to have. Not while Jughead was still fighting his way through the aftereffects of whatever Brandon had given him.

"We're making an exception. Drink it slowly, and as soon as you're awake, we'll cut you off."

Jughead rubbed his eyes and eased himself into a more upright position. "Sorry about this. I asked Brand to give me something to sleep, and I think it hit me hard."

"Do you remember talking to me last night?" FP asked gently. He was surprised to hear that Jughead had been the one to ask for the drugs, though it didn't make him soften at all in his stance toward Brandon. For one thing, he knew that Jughead was more than capable of lying to him if he thought it would smooth things between his father and Brandon.

"Before bed? Yeah," Jughead sipped the coffee.

"When I got up again. You were on the couch, talking to Brandon."

"No," Jughead shrugged. "I was probably falling asleep by then."

"We had a conversation," FP wasn't sure how far he wanted to go with this. "Did you know what the pills would do? What did Brandon tell you?"

"He just said they'd knock me out. I'd sleep, and then I'd be in better shape to look for Trig today."

FP frowned. "And you thought that sounded like a good idea?"

"Not anymore," Jughead took another sip of coffee and then pushed the mug away. "I don't want to get wired for sound again. That was awful last time."

"Yeah." At this point FP wasn't sure if he owed Brandon an apology or a bullet. "Do you ask Brandon for drugs often?"

"Dad! _No_," Jughead looked scandalized. "This was, like, the second time. And I didn't _ask_ last time."

FP raised his eyebrows and motioned for Jughead to continue.

"Oh man, are you mad? Is that why Brand left so early?" Jughead was exasperated. "He gave me painkillers after Jameson. The torture stuff. So I wouldn't look like a train wreck on the news. That's all. And, uh, muscle relaxers one time. I had cramps."

FP's eyebrows were still raised. "He's got a pharmacy degree? An MD?"

Jughead snorted.

"You're going to have to explain why that's funny. He's giving you controlled substances, boy."

"No, he just-," Jughead realized that his amusement stemmed from the fact that he'd had an unpredictable reaction to whatever Brand had given him at Jameson's. His dad _really_ didn't need to hear about that. "He has some medical training. From the military."

"Ah, the military," FP had heard an awful lot explained away in this manner. "Of course."

"Dad, I'm sorry that I exhibited drug-seeking behavior."

"Uh-huh," FP was not amused, but he was now more thoughtful than angry. "So. You think you remember all the times he gave you something?"

"He wasn't, like, slipping me stuff in my food," Jughead scoffed.

"That you know of."

"That I know of," Jughead repeated agreeably, but there was a hint of hesitation in his voice. He was recalling the conversation last fall when Brand had mentioned drugging him. More than once.

"If you think of anything-,"

"I'll come straight to you. We can talk, laugh, cry, and process together." Jughead gave his dad a look.

"Okay," FP slid the coffee mug back toward Jughead. "One more sip and then I'm cutting you off. Let's get you to school. I'll talk to Brandon later today about searching for Trigger this afternoon. I'll have some conditions for you, but it should be doable."

"Sounds good," Jughead took a gulp of coffee and then focused on his cereal.

FP regarded him with concern. Maybe this wasn't the end of the world. It was just one more detail about what had happened with Brandon. More information was better than not knowing, or so he figured. It might even be a blessing, since it would have spared Jughead trauma if he'd had to be… stored… somewhere for a period of time. But it was a whole constellation of worries that FP hadn't considered before.

And that was leaving aside the fact that illicit drug use would not play well if questions arose again about FP's custody of Jughead.

FP stood up to get ready for work. He'd have to give some thought to how he could safely get another perspective on what he'd learned. He would figure out a way to keep Jughead safe while he was with Brandon, just for today, but the new information had made one thing clear: this whole situation was above his pay grade.

**00000**

"Is Trigger back?" Archie was hopeful when he sat down with Jughead and Betty for lunch.

"Yeah, has he showed up?" Veronica joined them as well.

"Not yet," Jughead rubbed his eyes. "I'm going out with Brand after school to look again. Can any of you come? I need someone else along, and I have to send my dad, like, a million selfies, but he's letting me go. So that's good I guess."

"Selfies?" Betty asked. She'd only had a couple of minutes to catch up with Jughead before the others had joined them. This was news to her.

"Apparently-," Jughead wasn't sure he should share any of this, but he decided it was probably okay. After all, he was certain this hadn't been an issue since the previous fall, "-I _might_ have been drugged last fall. Once or twice. Anyway, that's not what happened this time and my dad is overreacting-"

"Oh my god, the raccoon face," Veronica's jaw dropped.

"That was what, twice? Three times?" Archie was trying to recall for sure.

Jughead's eyes widened. He looked from one friend to another.

Betty bit her lip and nodded her agreement. "It was more than once. Not a lot, but yeah. Oh my god, Jug."

"Great." Jughead massaged his forehead, trying to recover from the shocking information that his friends had noticed him being drugged, or at least distinct aftereffects. And he had not. "Okay. Two or three times, I guess."

The other three exchanged uncomfortable glances. "Um... your dad is letting you go search for Trig with Brandon? Knowing this?" Archie's tone was skeptical.

"I have to send him proof of the clean and sober life every ten minutes, and I'm pretty sure he'll have more demands if none of you can come, but yeah," Jughead tried to hide his expression as he took a bite of his sandwich. He hadn't expected his friends to know more than he did about the times when he'd been drugged, and it felt intensely uncomfortable. Embarrassing.

"Yeah, no." Archie's tone was firm now. "I'll call my dad. I'm coming with you."

"Really?" Jughead looked up with interest. He hadn't expected that Archie would be willing to go up against Mr. Andrews over this.

"If FP's not going to make sure you're safe, I'm sure not going to sit back and watch this happen all over again," Archie shook his head. "Jug, this is messed up. I know it's complicated, but if your dad needs photos to be sure you're not drugged - or missing - then you shouldn't be spending time with Brandon at all."

"Brand's not going to do anything," Jughead spread his hands as if to show that he wasn't hiding anything.

"Yeah, he's been pretty great, actually," Betty interjected now. "Things were messed up before for a lot of reasons, but Brand's been nothing but helpful since he came to help when Jughead was missing."

"Again. He was missing _again_. You weren't there-," Archie stopped. He hadn't yet talked with Jughead about what he'd seen in the trailer and he didn't want to start that conversation now. "You know that I don't trust him."

"Sometimes we just have to trust people," Jughead shrugged. "Even if we normally wouldn't."

Veronica looked from Archie to Jughead. She wasn't sure where she came down on this one, though the idea of Jughead having been drugged against his will for any reason was objectively horrifying. She wished there wasn't any reason that she needed to weigh in on what Brandon might or might not do now. "He's leaving in, what, two weeks?"

"Yeah," Jughead nodded. "A little less. We have the big interview after finals, and then he goes back to Canada."

"Well, I'm talking to my dad. You're going to have backup for those two weeks," Archie was determined.

"Your dad might not let you," Jughead finally stated the obvious. "He's already really upset that you were at the drug dealers' house when they were high."

"Yeah, _that_ was the problem. That they were _high_," Archie replied sarcastically. "And you know what? Maybe he won't be cool with it. I'll figure that out, though. You're not going it alone this time."

Jughead figured it was the combined effects of whatever he'd taken the night before, Trigger being missing, and sheer exhaustion, but his eyes burned as tears threatened to well up.

"I'll see what I can do too," Betty was concerned now. She believed that Brand had changed, things were different, and there was no danger. But she could also see that Jughead needed support.

"Me too," Veronica was glad there was a way forward on this that she could take without weighing in on whether or not Brand was currently a danger to Jughead.

Archie had taken a bite of his lunch, but when she spoke his head snapped back up.

"And you know what?" Veronica continued. "Since I'm the only one who actually has a prayer of being able to go with you this afternoon, let me just cancel a few things. You and I can find Trig together."

"Ronnie, I don't think that's a good idea," Archie was shaking his head. "You've got too much going on already."

"Don't be ridiculous, Archie," Veronica frowned at her boyfriend. "I can clear the decks for one day. Just on the _very _likely 'off chance' that you and Betty can't go. I'll catch up on stuff tomorrow."

"Really?" Jughead was surprised and grateful. "Thanks, guys. Seriously, Brand's really okay, but… I appreciate it. And it will definitely help to have more people looking for Trig."

"Yeah," Archie's expression was dark, but he figured he'd leave it at that. If they were able to keep an eye on things, it wouldn't matter who was right about Brandon. Nothing would happen.

And as long as Archie was the one who went along with Jughead and Brandon today, Veronica wouldn't be forced to catch up on anything later in the week.

**00000**

Alice was sure it was a bad idea, but she couldn't resist taking a walk out to the clearing just two days after she'd first met Jughead there. They'd had a great talk about school, teachers, and books. They'd kvetched about _The Blue and Gold_. And Alice had made a decision.

It was time to come clean about the tell-all article.

It would be going live in just a few days now, and there was suddenly a totally different route that she could see for making everything work: Jonas could read it. Give comments. Maybe write a companion piece. They'd collaborate, and then when it hit the front page it would be sanctioned. It would be the official story of them.

Everyone would get their say, and Alice's mother would be satisfied.

She entered the clearing and found a comfortable spot to wait and pulled out a book. Hopefully he'd be along today.

**00000**

Brand was quiet when Jughead met him outside of Riverdale High with Veronica. She was officially the only one of Jughead's best friends who was not grounded.

Mrs. Cooper was parked right behind Brand, waiting to escort Betty home. Archie was at least permitted to walk home and then face his punishment for talking back to his mother when he'd called her between classes. Things were getting weirder and weirder with him.

Fred Andrews must really hate him now, Jughead reflected. He had a deflated feeling whenever he thought about it, so he tried to push it from his mind. Mr. Andrews had helped look for Trig, too, which had been nice of him. Jughead had kept his distance, avoiding eye contact, but he appreciated the help - however begrudging it had been.

"Let's go to Fox Forest first," Jughead suggested as he slid into the back seat so that Veronica could have the front. "It's where we usually go after school, so maybe he'll go there on his own."

"Get a photo to your father, kid," Brand said flatly. He put the car in gear and began to drive toward an easy access point for hiking to the clearing in Fox Forest.

Jughead sent his dad a somewhat irritated-looking selfie. He included a note letting him know they were heading to Fox Forest, though. That should earn him a few points.

By the time they were walking into the woods, Veronica had charmed Brand and was chatting with him about some television show that Jughead had never seen.

"Send another photo," Brand took a moment away from the debate with Veronica about some episode to give Jughead another order.

Veronica frowned this time, displeased by his tone. "Brandon... why does Jughead need to send photos to FP?"

The question sounded innocent, but Jughead looked up in alarm - Veronica already knew the back story, so she must be trying to engineer something. That was never a safe thing to try on Brand.

"You know what - it's my fault, actually," Brand's expression relaxed, to Jughead's immense surprise, and his godfather finally looked him in the eye. "Let's take a breather. I'll take the photo; Veronica, get in this one. FP will like that."

Veronica smiled and posed, giving Jughead a half hug. Jughead raised an eyebrow but smiled.

"Great. Sent." Brand handed Jughead's phone back to him. "Look, kid, about what happened last night. It's not something I'm going to be aiding and abetting again, and I think you know I didn't want to… overdo it."

Jughead wasn't sure he was following all of this. But there seemed to be an apology in there, and that was very unlike Brand. "Um, okay? Consider it forgotten."

"It's more complicated than that," Brand gave him a look. "We'll need to talk about this more."

"Okay," Jughead ducked his head now, embarrassed again and hoping to end the conversation, at least for the time being. "We can talk about it later."

"With your dad."

"Seriously?" Jughead couldn't see that being a good idea.

"He said he'd shoot me, so yeah."

Veronica's eyes widened.

"Oh." Jughead thought about that for a moment and couldn't hide a small smile over his dad saying that. "He's a really good shot, Brand."

Brand ruffled Jughead's hair. "I figured, kid. That's why we're cutting him in on this conversation."

They resumed walking through the woods.

"Hang on, you two," Brand took a couple of steps more after gesturing for Veronica and Jughead to stop. "Someone's in the clearing. I'll check it out."

Jughead and Veronica looked at each other. It was not unheard-of, though it was unusual to see other people here.

They heard Brand a few moments later.

"_Alice freaking Carter_?"

Jughead took off after his godfather at a run.

**00000**

FP had decided to talk to Fred over lunch, but hadn't gotten the chance. Now, though, as he took a break, he saw Fred making his way over to him.

"FP," Fred nodded and didn't quite smile as he looked for his friend's reaction to being approached. It had not gone well the last time he'd tried to initiate a conversation with him.

"Fred," FP nodded back. "I… wondered if I could run something by you. After work, sometime this week. Is there any chance you could come by the house for a little while?"

FP felt more and more like a second set of eyes - eyes he knew he could trust - might be the only thing that could assure him that he wasn't doing something insane by trying to work with Brandon. Maybe he'd show Fred the threatening notes, too, and get his perspective on the whole situation.

It was time FP stopped trying to figure all of this out on his own. Before everything fell apart right in front of him.

"Of course, FP," Fred nodded. Maybe things were better. "Do you know if Jughead found Trigger? Archie's actually in some trouble for the way he 'asked' his mother about joining the search this afternoon."

"Not yet. They're out looking right now," FP managed a small smile when he held up a photo of Jughead and Veronica on his phone. "Hopefully we'll find that terror soon. Jughead's real worried."

"I could see that," Fred frowned as he recalled Jughead's skittish body language around him the previous evening. Maybe dropping by would give him a chance to clear the air with Jughead as well.

"Yeah, so… any time. If you come one night around seven I can have dinner for you."

"Let's do that," Fred nodded. Enough time had passed that he'd really begun to miss having FP and Jughead around the house. Sharing a meal sounded great. "I'll let you know after I talk to Mary."

**00000**

Alice was shocked when Agent Davies emerged from Fox Forest.

"_Alice freaking Carter_?"

Before Alice could come up with a response, whatever that might have entailed, Jughead came running out of the woods.

"Oh, you have _got_ to be kidding me," Brand looked from Alice to Jughead and back again. He folded his arms. "How long has _this_ been going on?"

Veronica entered the clearing then, but she stopped in her tracks when she took in the scene and heard Brandon's words.

"Nothing's going on, Brand," Jughead objected immediately.

"Yeah, uh-huh," Brand shook his head in disbelief. "So. Were you two sneaking around in Toronto, too? Did you know who she was? Come on, Jones, this is the sort of thing we _really_ should have a chat about."

Jughead knew that tone far too well. Brand was dangerously angry.

And this was dangerous, so that made a lot of sense.

"Brand, please-,"

"Send your father a photo, Jones," Brand's tone went cold as he interrupted Jughead. "I dare you."

Jughead felt himself go pale. "Brand-,"

"He's waiting."

Veronica walked over to join Jughead. "Are you okay?"

"Veronica, you should take Alice and go," Jughead said quietly, his eyes never leaving Brand.

"I'm not leaving you alone with him. He's scaring me. He's scaring _you_."

"He won't hurt me," Jughead was sure of that much at least. "He's just worried."

"You want _me_ to send a photo? We don't want to be late," Brand's voice was getting harsher.

"I'll send one," Jughead took a quick, unsmiling selfie and sent it to his dad.

"Hey, I've got a great idea. Alice, why don't _you_ fill me in?" Brand turned to Alice but continued to watch Jones so he couldn't signal her without him seeing.

"Uh," Alice had never met Agent Davies before, and this was not what she'd pictured. At all. "We... met in Toronto. I didn't know who he was, and he never knew who my father was. Until-,"

"Until he did." Brand's tone was sarcastic. He had clearly not forgotten Alice's defense of Daniel.

"Yeah. I guess," Alice was profoundly uncomfortable.

"Well, that's just perfect," Brand nodded once. "Real nice, Jones. After _everything_."

"I'm sorry, Brand-,"

"I've been hearing that an awful lot from you lately," Brand's voice was still cold.

Veronica put a hand on Jughead's shoulder, hoping that would help him steady his accelerating breathing. "It's not a big deal, Brandon. So they met; they didn't tell you. So what?"

"Yeah. That's a very good point," Brandon's tone was even more sarcastic. "It's no big deal. She's sitting here in the dog running spot, but that's a total coincidence."

"Brand-," Jughead wasn't sure what he was going to say, but it was a moot point when he didn't get a chance to formulate any more of his response.

"We're going home. The monster's not going to be found today; someone took him, Jones, so we're in for a slightly more involved hunt. That door was locked and someone got it open - and didn't even bother to cover their tracks. I didn't want to say anything right away, in case we did find him by some miracle," Brand shot Alice a shattering look. "You gonna print this?"

Alice shook her head. If anything had been going to persuade her that was a terrible idea, the look on Jonas' face right now was it. There would be no tell-all article.

"I guess we'll find out how much honor you have when the next edition of the paper comes out," Brand dismissed Alice then. "You need a ride, Lodge. We'll drop you off first."

"I'm coming over for dinner," Veronica summoned all of her courage and made sure her game face was in place as she spoke.

"Nope," Brand walked toward Veronica and Jughead.

"_Excuse_ me. Yes, I am," Veronica didn't budge, though Jughead was looking at her like she was about to go over the edge of a cliff.

"Jones?"

"Please, Veronica," Jughead looked agonized. "It's... I need you to go home."

"Absolutely not," Veronica stood her ground. "I was promised dinner."

Alice was making a retreat from the clearing. Brand shot a look after her.

"My God. _Alice Carter_, Jones?"

"I'm-,"

"Say you're sorry one more time, and-," Brand broke off, frustrated. He looked skyward and took a few moments to think. "Okay. So you've been sneaking around. It's not the end of the world. We'll have to bring it up in the interview, but we can get ahead of this."

"_What_?" Veronica was shocked. "Ohhh, no - Betty would not be cool with that. I don't know what all is going on here-," Veronica eyed Jughead now, acknowledging that Brandon was likely right that Alice's presence here was not a coincidence "-but I do know that a national interview is not the place to start slinging around information like that."

"Got any better ideas, Lodge?"

"Maybe. Let me think." Veronica seemed to be seriously considering this.

Jughead stared at her. "What? Just like that?"

"You don't have to tell me everything that's going on. I know a lot of it's classified," Veronica shrugged. "But if I can help, I'll help."

"Let's go," Brand pointed in the general direction of where they'd parked. He seemed to be calming down a little. "Jones-,"

"What?" Jughead kept his eyes down and his jaw clenched as they started hiking back toward the car.

"Sorry. About Trigger. I hoped we'd find him and I didn't want to say it like that."

"Whatever, Brand," Jughead sighed, but he also noted that it was officially a record: two apologies from Brand in one afternoon. "So… he's gone?"

"He might be." Brand reached over to drop a hand on Jughead's shoulder.

Jughead looked up at him. They walked in silence in the woods for a few moments. "How do I get forgiven if I can't say I'm sorry?"

"We have had this conversation before. You do better, Jones," Brand sighed. "You don't make the same mistakes again and again. Show that you can be trusted."

"Okay," Jughead continued to watch Brand's expression. "That's _all_ I can do?"

"Pretty much," Brand was softening more quickly now that the shock was wearing off. "We can figure this out, kid."

"Okay," Jughead's voice was quiet. He'd known this could be trouble, but hearing Brand confirm it - seeing him so angry, which meant he was worried - had made it a lot more scary. Rose might really be unhappy when this was made public information.

"I've got an idea!" Veronica was suddenly excited. "If you _have _to say something, then maybe you could tell the story as kind of a femme fatale setup. Jughead still has hope for her - nothing romantic, of course - but…"

"Um, no," Jughead responded. "That's not fair-"

"Um, yes," Brand corrected him. "That might actually work. Our pitch will be 'young and stupid boy meets calculating woman.' It has a lot of truth to it; even you'll be able to sell that believably. Until you come up with something better, that's officially plan A. Nice work, Lodge."

"I still have no clue what it is you're trying to do," Veronica smiled, though. This had turned out to be a much more challenging afternoon than she had ever imagined it being, and she knew there would be hell to pay when she returned to her disrupted schedule the next day, but somehow she was having fun. "Is it time for another photo?"

"Can't hurt to be on the early side," Brand gestured for Jughead to take another shot. This time Veronica draped her arms over Jughead's right shoulder and and shot the camera a cocky grin.

"Send that one to Archie, too." Veronica had an echo of the grin still on her face when they reached the car. "We've got your back, Jughead."

"Apparently so," Jughead managed a small smile as he sent the photo. Then the smile slid away.

"We'll all keep looking for Trigger," Veronica assured him.

"Yeah," Jughead appreciated the offer, but he was realizing not only that finding his dog was unlikely, but also that there might be more pressing matters that would demand their focus over the next two weeks.

Losing Trigger was tragic, and if he never got him back, it would hurt for a long time. Messing things up with Rose, however, would involve pain on a totally different scale.

**00000**

**Man, it's really happening now. I'll enjoy hearing what you think if you are able to leave a review - and it will be a great encouragement because I've got tricky writing coming in chapter six (next story: simple plot: everyone is happy, sad, or angry at the same time, to the same degree, and they express it in the same manner, while conveying their feelings clearly and appropriately to one another). :)**

**I hope you're having a lovely week so far!**

**-Button**


	6. Chapter 6

**We made it to chapter six!**

**Thanks for the review, Skyrider45 - I'm so glad you like Betty's relationship with Brand and see it as a natural outgrowth of her character (and events). And Fred's return is well worth a yay! :-D I sometimes forget the genre is suspense (yeah, I know that's weird), but whenever someone takes a guess at where we're going... it is _awesome_. It's like a game of Clue since everyone kind of knows what the possibilities are, but needs more info... I love when people call the shot most of all. :)  
**

**I loved your review, Living Lucid Dream! I've thought a lot about your comment about FP's portrayal, and the two details that most inform my version of him: he's _crazy_ beloved by the Serpents, and he somehow white-knuckled his way to sobriety (with setbacks, but basically. ****Time management seems not to allow for AA meetings at this point.****). That is a capable guy, whether or not he's always using his powers for good. Brand's finally facing some music on a few things that Jug couldn't address with him on his own, yeah (and Brand should listen to himself talk, agreed), and Archie's (in his way) helping make sure nothing gets lost in the shuffle. I think Archie and Jug are going to talk - and hopefully so will Fred and Jug. :) Bahaha, I loved your Alice narration: "NO AGAIN!" sums up Alice's arc at the moment. :-D Yay Veronica! I was so glad when I got to the lunchroom scene and it was obvious: Veronica was on deck, and it was going to be her chapter (sorry everyone else). I'm so glad you like this version of her!**

**Thank you for the kind reviews, Guest! It is so nice it is to hear your thanks; you are more than welcome, and I deeply appreciate your notes. I've enjoyed getting people into less common combos in this story, and I loved that you noticed - and I think that Veronica and Jughead not having much time as a pair on the show is a missed opportunity. Fred being Jug's "second or third dad" made me laugh; it's true that Jughead didn't have anyone but Fred for a while, though. And yeah... there are a LOT of suspects for who took Trig... I'm really glad you're looking forward to reading more!**

**Enjoy!**

**-Button**

**00000**

Alice got home to find her mother in an astonishingly good mood. She steered clear all the same, not wanting anything else added to her list of tasks for the day, and headed to her room to start her homework.

She was still shaken up from what had happened in Fox Forest, and it occurred to her that she should delete all traces of the tell-all article now that she'd made the decision never to share it - publish it - and tell stories that Jonas and Agent Davies did not want made public.

She'd sat down at her desk before she realized that her room was not quite as she'd left it: her laptop was open.

Alice normally didn't mind if her mother needed to use her laptop for some reason, but she suddenly had a bad feeling. She jogged the mouse. The screen came to life, and open on the screen was an early rough draft of her tell-all article.

Alice could hear her mother humming in her room, down the hall.

Heart pounding, Alice deleted the documents and folders that contained all drafts, emptied the Recycling, and slammed her computer closed.

But she was one hundred percent sure that it was too late.

**00000**

FP was surprised to find Veronica cooking with Brandon in the kitchen when he got home. Veronica gave him a conspiratorial smile that he could not begin to interpret, but FP did appreciate that Jughead had not spent any portion of the day alone with Brandon. He nodded to Veronica and turned to go shower before joining them for whatever they had simmering. It smelled good.

"Where's Jughead?" FP asked before heading toward his room and its adjoining bathroom to wash up.

"Attempting suicide by treadmill," Brand inclined his head toward the door to the basement. His tone was light and did not betray that anything at all had happened the night before; FP was simultaneously impressed and unsettled by that. "He was pretty worked up, and well on his way to not being fit for polite company. I'll pull him off once you're out of the shower. He's going to need one too."

"I'll talk to him first," FP moved toward the basement. "Is he upset about the dog?"

"And a few other things," Brandon looked downright apologetic, which FP was beginning to recognize as a really bad sign. Thank heavens Veronica was here; at least that meant there was a limit to what he had to worry about. "We'll discuss it after dinner if he doesn't fill you in first."

"Okay," FP gave Veronica another curious glance before he went down the stairs.

Jughead was a sweaty mess; Brandon had hardly been exaggerating. The teen had set a blistering pace and it looked like he'd been running at it for longer than his body could handle.

"Hey, Jug, take it down a notch so we can talk," FP could tell at a glance that Jughead would not be able to hold a conversation while running so hard.

Jughead slammed a hand down on the machine to kill its power and jumped off instead.

"Whoa - you cool yourself down," FP reached for him and pushed him back toward the treadmill. "I know you're upset, but injuring yourself isn't going to help."

Jughead did not look pleased, but he turned the machine back on and a few moments later he was jogging at a much more reasonable pace.

"What happened?" FP frowned. Jughead hadn't slept much the night before, had been knocked out by some kind of sedative, drank coffee to get through school, and now he looked like he was testing whether he could induce a heart attack in himself before he turned seventeen. With his panic attacks and blood pressure issues, this was anything but smart behavior.

"Alice was in Fox Forest," Jughead glanced toward FP before he focused once again on the door that led to the back yard. "She was waiting for me."

"Why would she-," FP stopped. He looked more closely at Jughead's face. "Does Betty know?"

"It's not like that."

"It's _always _like that, boy."

"No; it's really not," Jughead brought his pace down a little, working his way toward a walk. "You know that we were friends in Toronto. Now that's screwing stuff up. I didn't tell Brand, and-," Jughead shrugged. "It's complicated. We've got the interview coming up, and apparently we need to 'spin' this."

FP thought that over. "Why?"

"Why what?" Jughead had a few guesses: why had they become friends, why was Alice waiting for him today, why hadn't he told Brand-

"Why do you need to spin this?"

Jughead blinked. Veronica had said something useful, though. "Classified stuff."

"Jughead, that doesn't make any sense." FP regarded him with suspicion. However, they had been here before. On the subject of Alice, no less. "I'm going to let it go for now, but you need to think long and hard about what you're telling people. If this sort of cock-eyed story-" FP gestured to Jughead "-is what Brandon means when he says you need a 'spin,' then he's right."

Jughead blinked again. FP sighed.

"If something else is going on here," and FP figured there must be at least _something_ about Alice that was more problematic than the obvious or they wouldn't keep coming back to this conversation, "you should either level with me - or come up with a better story. Because I trust you, but I can't say as I believe you right now."

FP eyed his son's expression. In spite of everything that had happened, the boy still had very little poker face when he was upset, which was useful at times, but also worrisome. At the moment his confusion over his father's statements and an internal scrabbling for a response - some form of lie, FP was certain - was playing out with almost humorous clarity. He was going to need some serious coaching to go along with that spin.

"You've seen what kind of time the media can devote to hounding you. If they don't believe you more than I do, Jug, you're going to be in for a world of hurt."

Picking up the towel that was draped over their weight bench, FP threw it to Jughead as the treadmill slowed to a walking pace. "I'll be out of the shower soon. Then it's all yours."

Jughead did not respond, but he studied his father as FP left the basement.

**00000**

Veronica and Brandon were laughing together as they set the table when Jughead came out from his room, showered and a lot calmer. He wasn't sure why his dad had taken the approach he had to the Alice situation, but it seemed like he might be trying to ally himself with Jughead even when he didn't - couldn't - have all of the facts.

That was unexpected. And nice.

"Hey, I'll set the table," Jughead offered. "You did the cooking."

"You'll do the dishes," Brand raised an eyebrow at his godson. "Feeling better?"

"Yeah, thanks," Jughead had appreciated it when Brand had shooed him off to the gym when they'd gotten home. Brand had simply told Veronica that Jughead did better after he'd blown off some steam, and it was true.

"We need you in fighting shape," Brand shadow-boxed for a moment and Jughead smiled, albeit wearily.

"I'll help with the dishes," FP offered. He was filling glasses with ice water in the kitchen area. "Do you need a ride home, Veronica?"

"I'll call for a ride," Veronica's tone was mild, but she could do the math: if FP drove her home, then Jughead would be left here with Brandon.

"Jug could handle a ride-along. Maybe take another look around for Trigger," FP responded.

"Thanks, Mr. Jones, but it's no trouble," Veronica smiled. She was officially off duty, then; FP would take it from here.

"Suit yourself," FP shrugged agreeably. "Let me know if you change your mind."

"I'll ask right now," Veronica checked her phone. Instead of seeing just a few messages, though, there was a flood of information on her screen. "Whoa."

"What's up?" Jughead was setting out silverware now, and Brand was following him around the table and correcting his placement. "Brand, nobody cares."

"Just learn it already, Jones," Brand had fought this fight for months without making a dent, but he figured eventually it would just be easier for the kid to give in. "Forks on the left."

FP stared at the two of them. "These are the battles you choose, Brandon?"

"We are civilized humans, FP," Brandon fixed the final place setting.

"Uh-huh," FP was gratified when Jughead shot him a sneaky glance. Apparently his son was messing with Brandon. "Thanks for the reminder."

"What _would _we do without him?" Jughead asked FP.

"Probably live in caves, wondering what in the world that thing called fire is," FP replied dryly, smiling at his son. Now _this _was a lot more fun than Jug and Brandon ganging up on him.

"Uh, guys?" Veronica was still staring at her phone. "Um… as I recall, there was a question about whether or not Alice Carter is honorable. I think we have our answer."

"Oh dear god, no," Brand reached for her phone.

"Wait- what?" Jughead had paled.

"It's long, too," Veronica was frowning. "I... don't think she could have written it all today, Jughead."

Jughead crowded up next to Brandon, trying to read over his shoulder.

"What's all this?" FP gestured at Brandon and Jughead's shocked expressions as they skimmed whatever was on the phone. He turned to Veronica for information.

"Alice Carter wrote an article for _The Blue and Gold_. About Jughead. It looks like everything that Mary Andrews banned in one tidy, underage, student publication package. It will probably be taken down from the school paper's website within the hour," Veronica took a deep breath. "Only that is _not _the only place it's been shared."

Brandon was scrolling on the phone. Then, without warning, he seized Jughead's arm with his left hand, jerking him so that he was facing Brandon, and his right arm came up. When Veronica gasped and Jughead flinched, FP knew he wasn't the only one who expected violence to follow. Brandon was simply holding the phone in Jughead's face, though, and had not made contact.

And, even though Jughead had clearly expected to be hit - and Brandon's grip on his arm looked painful - he had not resisted the motion or even attempted to defend himself. FP felt his blood pressure spike.

"_Hey!_" FP started toward them. Brandon threw his hands in the air and took a step away from Jughead, both in frustration and to appease FP, who was moving to stand between them and looked eager for Brandon to make just one more wrong move.

"Some 'bystander' helped you out, huh?" Brandon stepped right up to FP so they were almost nose to nose and reached around him, meeting FP's furious glare with an angry challenge of his own as he handed the phone to Jughead. The teen continued to read in horror while he rubbed his arm where Brandon had grabbed him. Brandon stepped away from FP once Jughead had the phone. "It is _not _just your skin on the line, kid."

FP's eyes narrowed at Brandon's words, and he realized that he might be wise to let things play out - carefully - and do his best to just observe what Brandon and Jughead did. This might turn out to be the incident that gave him the information he'd been looking for.

Jughead looked up from the article. "I'm s-"

"_Don't say it_," Brandon covered his eyes. "I cannot _believe_ you sat on all of this."

Jughead dropped his eyes back down to the phone and finished skimming the article. Slumping into a chair at the table, he held the phone out to Veronica.

FP unlocked his own phone. There was a message from Fred, with a link. "I've got it here too. Should I read it?" Normally there would be no question, but FP was getting the sense that Jughead might want to fill him in before he read Alice's version of - whatever it was.

"Everyone else has read it," Jughead's voice was tortured. "Why not you too?"

Brandon walked over to sit in the chair next to Jughead, ignoring FP when the older man followed to stand behind him, deliberately and threateningly too close. "Is there any more?"

"Any more what?" Jughead had let his hair fall over his face, but now he looked up at Brandon in confusion.

"Jones. Take your time and think this through very carefully: _is there more_?"

Jughead folded his arms. He couldn't think of anything - this was a tell-all in a fairly literal sense of the term - but he knew there had to be more. That meant that this had the potential to get even worse. Jughead gave a pained look up to where his dad was looming over Brandon, hands on the back of his godfather's chair, ready to stop anything before it started.

FP wasn't planning to step in just yet, though - as long as no more lines were crossed.

"Oh, no, don't pull that with me," Brandon glared in response to Jughead's resistant body language and broken eye contact. "You tell me what else could be coming, and you tell me right now."

"I… don't know. I think there's more, but I'm not sure what. I need to think."

"Pen and paper. Do not _touch_ a computer. Go to your room and start writing down anything you can think of." Brand pointed.

"Wait just a minute-," FP was going to intervene then, but Brandon twisted around in the chair to look up at him - and something in Brandon's expression stopped him. "Okay, fine. We'll start there. Jughead, go do that. I'm going to discuss this with Brandon out here. Veronica, I'm sorry about dinner, but it would be best if you called for that ride now."

"Uh-huh," Veronica was watching all of this unfold. She was shocked by Brandon's reaction - she found that she was near tears - and _so_ glad that FP had been there to intervene and that it had not been left up to her. Really, all of their reactions were strong... but then, based on what little she'd read, that article was terrifying. "Already on it."

"Thank you." FP sat down at the table, in the seat that Jughead had just vacated. He studied Brandon with a dark expression for a few moments. Then he pulled up the article that Fred had sent and began to read.

**00000**

Veronica left. Brandon had moved to lie on the couch, one hand over his eyes and the other massaging the back of his neck while he sighed and muttered to himself. Jughead was presumably making a list of the rest of his sins.

FP was still trying to understand what he'd read.

"Are the FBI going to take me again?" Jughead had reappeared in the doorway of his bedroom, at the top of the stairs, his eyes red-rimmed and his expression fearful. He was clutching a piece of paper - no doubt his list - and his hands were shaking.

FP wanted to go to him, reassure him, but he hesitated. He honestly didn't know what was going to happen at this point.

"Hey, hey - take it easy, killer. Of course not. Come here," Brand frowned and his tone was unexpectedly warm and soothing as he sat up and patted the cushion next to him in an invitation. "I won't let them take you back there. If they need to talk to you again - and yeah, they will - they can do it here. With your dad in the room. But that's not really my worry right now."

FP watched them soberly, once again interested in seeing how this played out - but poised to step in if Brandon dared raise a hand to Jughead again.

"I'll fix it," Jughead's tone was desperate as he walked over and sat down next to Brandon. Once again the strange dynamic was apparent: Jughead seemed scared, but not of his godfather - despite likely having a bruise forming on his upper arm. "I can talk to people, and-,"

"No way, kid," Brandon sighed. Jones was trying to be brave, but having him call Rose to give explanations was just suicidal. For both of them. "I'll handle that part. You need to focus on the interview, because this just became a half court shot. We need the deck stacked as much as humanly possible."

Jughead rubbed his eyes, which looked painful. "You're… mixing all your metaphors."

Brand barked out a short laugh and put an arm around Jughead's shoulders to pull him into a half hug and to tousle his hair. "Yeah, kid, I am." He took a deep breath and then slid his arm down from Jughead's shoulders to pat him on the back.

"Why don't you tell your dad about the home invasion. It's a matter of police record, so nothing about that is classified." Jughead knew that meant he should give the same story they'd given the police. "That will clear up the biggest problem with this article, and that's going to be important to do in our interview. Dress rehearsal."

Jughead looked over at FP.

"Come on, Jug," FP gestured toward Jughead's room, satisfied that he'd learned as much as he could from watching Brandon's reaction to the article and his interactions with his son. "Brandon can look over your list. Let's talk."

**00000**

Jughead was lying on his bed, explaining about the break-in: how unknown people had randomly targeted their house, and then he'd innocently run into them during the daytime and recognized them from their distinctive injuries - and they'd taken advantage of the opportunity and tried to kidnap him at gunpoint.

It was not the tightest of stories, but it was close enough to reality that Jughead could tell that he had a ring of truth in his explanation.

"So you knew they wouldn't fire a .45 in the street?" FP was frowning. He'd sat on the edge of the bed, and he was studying Jughead's expression as they talked. They'd gotten that far in the timeline, and Alice's account told most of the rest of the story.

"Well, _I_ wouldn't," Jughead shrugged. "And I had to figure out what to do really quickly."

"You wouldn't… _what_?"

"Oh. Um. Brand taught me how to shoot," Jughead wondered if he'd need to share that on television as well.

"Huh." FP massaged his forehead. His tone was matter-of-fact. "So, let me be sure I've got this straight: you fought alongside Brandon to defend yourself in the house in Toronto-" FP refused to refer to it in any way as Jughead's 'home' "-and did damage to the intruders that you could later identify on sight, even though you couldn't recognize _them_ because it was too dark during the home invasion. You were armed with something very lethal at some point in all of this. Alice met you and she just so happened to rescue you from some more 'random violence' that - shockingly - later turned out to be connected to the bust."

"Dad-," Jughead's tone was pleading.

"Jughead," FP's voice remained calm and level, "you'll need to be able to answer questions about all of this."

That was true.

"Okay... um, ignore the gun part," Jughead considered the rest of the story. "The bust was really big - it involved a lot of criminals in the area - and maybe that's also why our house was targeted. Our undercover role there."

"Better."

"Which might have been why they wanted to kidnap me. But I didn't stop to ask," Jughead watched his father's expression.

"That's not a bad line either," FP approved. "Why didn't you tell Brandon about Alice?"

"It's not wise to get entangled with civilians? I knew he wouldn't approve?"

FP laughed shortly. "Talk that one through with Brandon. He can help you sell it a little better."

"I'm sorr- I mean…" Jughead thought through what he was trying to say. "Thank you."

"I'm going to go talk to Brandon now." FP's expression was unreadable, but his tone darkened. "How's your arm?"

"I deserved it, dad," Jughead looked away. "And more."

"Hey," FP reached over to gently guide Jughead's gaze back toward him. "This is scary stuff. From what I'm hearing, you did what you had to do. And it worked. Until Alice pulled this stunt, you had a best-case scenario: you are home and you are safe. You do not have to apologize for that. And you do _not_ deserve to be hurt. Not for that; not for anything."

"You sure about that?" Jughead's tone was flippant, but he looked more forlorn than anything.

FP pushed up the sleeve of Jughead's T-shirt. A bruise was indeed forming. "This is not a game, Jughead. Nobody does this to my son. Not twice, anyway."

Jughead snorted darkly.

"I wasn't there," FP maintained eye contact, even though he wanted to flinch away from Jughead's hurting expression. "But I'm here now. Nobody touches you like that. Alice wrote about your wrists-"

"That was Jameson." Jughead broke eye contact, responding too quickly.

"Uh-huh." FP would see if Brandon's story lined up with that even a little bit. "If someone... tied you up and then hurt you until your wrists looked like that from trying to get loose-"

"No."

"What?" FP hadn't expected any information after Jughead's evasive initial response.

"I- it was just- that was more of a fight. I lost, big time," Jughead searched FP's eyes, though it wasn't clear what reaction he was looking for. "But I wasn't tied up; nothing else happened. My wrists were - the whole thing."

"Okay." FP had to admit that was something of a relief compared to the immense range of horrors that he'd been imagining. It still wasn't great, and this information might not forestall the nightmares he was pretty sure were coming - he thankfully did not tend to wake Jughead up when he had his own bad dreams - but it was a relief all the same. "Did you have fights like that a lot?"

"No."

"Once a week?" FP had learned that his definitions and Jughead's of relative terms such as 'a lot' did not always align.

"No - that one time was pretty much it." Jughead was avoiding eye contact again. "I had bruises from training, but that was different."

"Okay." FP figured he could accept that, since he'd put good odds on Brandon claiming that all the bruises had been accidents from their training. Jughead admitting that his wrists had been something more malicious was hopefully the first gap in their very effectively closed ranks - and it might also mean that anything else that came up _had_ been from 'just' training.

FP pulled Jughead's sleeve back down over the bruise and then got up from the bed. "We'll have dinner soon. I'm going to talk to Brandon alone first. Stay here for a few minutes; I'll come back and get you when we're done."

Jughead looked worried, but obeyed.

FP left Jughead's room to get the other version of events. Brandon was sitting on the staircase.

"I heard what the kid told you," Brandon said before FP spoke. "He needs a little more coaching, but that was a pretty good dress rehearsal. I can confirm or deny anything you want, but I wanted you to know right away that I overheard. You won't get two stories; he sounded pretty clear on everything."

FP's brow furrowed. "Then you also heard me say that the next time you try anything on Jughead that even _resembles_ violence-"

"Without permission."

"You try getting permission to beat my son, and I'll shoot you." FP turned away from Brandon and led him into the living room.

"I meant training, not- whatever it was the kid was saying about deserving it. That's not coming from me," Brandon stood up and followed FP, spreading his hands as if to indicate his innocence. "And if I were you, I wouldn't let the FBI near him again without you present."

FP waited, motioning impatiently for more explanation. Neither man took a seat.

"They screwed with his head," Brandon offered. "I don't think they hurt him physically, but I think you're hearing some of their tactics when he says stuff like that."

"You'd certainly like for me to think that, huh?"

"If it keeps you from letting them take another run at him, then absolutely."

"So… you've got skin in all of this?" FP had been paying close attention all evening, and he figured that one line explained a lot. Maybe even everything. "That's your interest in Jughead? If he goes down, you go down too? It sounds like you did a lot more 'working together' in Toronto than either of you have let on. It also sounds to me like trouble is… _following_ you. Both of you."

"I might have skin in this," Brandon shrugged. "I honestly don't know. But I'm not a gambling man; I prefer my fights to be won before they ever begin. And the kid… you should know that trouble came to him. I just tried to keep his head above water. I'm still trying to do that. He deserves better than whatever he'll get if he can't pull out of this tailspin."

FP considered that. And he found that after everything he'd seen this evening, he believed it. Whatever was going on, it was more than a ghost story that Brandon had cooked up to scare Jughead and gain a foothold in their lives. Something was out there, and the danger was real. And whatever it was, it scared Brandon.

This might be as close as he'd ever get to understanding what Brandon and Jughead were afraid of, and what they were working toward - or maybe fighting against.

FP wasn't yet sure if he could accept it - if he could put his trust in Brandon and whatever partial understanding he'd allowed Jughead to have of the situation - and work with them both to get through the implications of this vague, mostly implied half story that they'd only given him under the extreme duress of Alice's article.

He hoped that he could, though, because FP was starting to get the sense that it might be very, very important that they take this on together, with a united front.

Whatever it was.

"How do I help?" FP finally asked.

"You can't be read into this." Brandon didn't look at him, and his voice was cold. "You like your kid breathing? Walk away from this one, FP."

"Not what I asked," FP responded firmly. He spoke slowly this time. "How... do I _help_?"

Brandon's eyebrows shot up. He stared intently at FP, reappraising what he saw there. He slowly began to smile.

FP's phone started vibrating.

"It's Mary Andrews. You should go for tonight; I'm guessing she's going to want to come over."

"To talk strategy? Then I should stay," Brandon disagreed. His smile was still growing, and was morphing into something of a predatory grin.

"She doesn't like you." FP answered the phone, trying to ignore Brandon's unnerving change in affect. He could deal with that later. "Hi, Mary?"

"People say that like it should mean something to me," Brandon was amused. "Tell her I'll be here too, FP. We'll make a plan together."

**00000**

**Yeah, that was a chapter. Rubber and road! I'm missing Trigger acutely, BTW, since he would 10/10 have eaten Brand alive. So... maybe it's good that he missed this one, in the interest of avoiding character death? ;)**

**Also, Living Lucid Dream, you called this one long before I knew it was going to happen: both/neither for Alice and the article. I think you've officially got her number! :) **

**I'll look forward to any and all reviews - crazy scheduling may delay chapter seven (wow - we're flying!), but hopefully not for long. **

**And I hope you all have a lovely weekend!**

**-Button**


	7. Chapter 7

**I wrote. A lot. In large part because the reviews were impassioned! Thanks for the enthusiasm, everyone - Jughead is very cared for and I was inspired! (and I think everyone sees what I meant when I said this was all originally meant to be part of DIAV, since debriefing/recovery obviously continues...)**

**Thanks for the great analysis, Living Lucid Dream - I agree about the self-destructive streak, and recalling that Jug is still prepping for the SATs... yep. Still a kid. Hopefully scraping against the issue in such an obvious way will mean people get some traction on the problem(s) now. Bryn Carter + arc = oh boy? (your parenthetical was great :-D) And yeah, school is going to be nuts. Rose remains a wild card, yes, and whether he fishes or cuts bait - it's going to be complex. That is funny that I recalled your comment after finishing the chapter - and it was not _quite_ what you meant. I'll be interested in hearing your thoughts as the article arc unspools further. (and your thoughts about everything else along the way!)**

**Skyrider45, first and selfishly: I'm so sorry to hear about the writer's block because I look forward to your chapters. No rush; I know how it can be. Thanks for the great compliment, too. :) I am sorry the last chapter was painful - I mean, that was thematically appropriate... but still. Happy chapters will come again! Your comment about the forks made me laugh - one of my favorite things about this story is how every chapter has some whiplash in it (for me, anyway) as the characters are yanked back and forth by events (or each other). I reread that part while revising and wasn't sure it worked because it is SO out of step with the rest of the chapter. But that weird whiplash dynamic is really how Jug and Brand operate together, and now FP's getting in on it...**

**Guest, thank you for your thoughtful reminder that we love and miss Trig! And I always love a Team Alice vote; the tell-all was too hyped (and interesting!) to just go away in the night, I agree, but I couldn't see Alice doing it either. I'm glad you liked FP and Brand's efforts. Man, they are working hard and don't seem to catch a lot of breaks. Maybe soon!**

**Enjoy!**

**-Button**

**00000**

Fred came over that evening with Mrs. Andrews, and Jughead stuck his head out of his room until he'd confirmed that Archie had not also come along. Jughead had received an irritated text from Archie, but it was time-stamped before the article had gone live, and it seemed to be in response to the texted photo of Jughead and Veronica that had said she'd be staying for dinner. Jughead wasn't sure what to make of it, and he wanted to talk to Archie, just the two of them.

If they ever got the chance.

Since Archie was not with his parents, Jughead retreated instantly. He hoped that he would be allowed to miss the meeting and just get the highlights later from his dad and Brand.

Jughead pulled out his textbooks, sprawled on his bed, and tried to focus enough to continue studying.

A few minutes later there was a knock on his bedroom door.

"Come in." Jughead was surprised that anything had been decided so soon, but he figured it didn't matter: whether it was Brand or his dad, either would make a good study partner. He wasn't getting far on his own.

"Hi Jughead," Fred Andrews came in and closed the door behind himself.

Jughead drew his legs up under himself and shifted into a cross-legged position. "Mr. Andrews. Are they done discussing…" Jughead wasn't sure how to finish his sentence.

"Nah; they'll be at it for hours. I wanted to see how you're holding up with all of this." Fred gave Jughead a sympathetic smile. "And I haven't seen as much of you as I'd like lately. Your dad says that things have been complicated, and I know it isn't easy when Archie can't come over as often as you two are used to. Especially now that Trigger's missing." Fred frowned when Jughead looked away. "You're welcome to come over after school. Any time when Mrs. Andrews or I are there."

"I know," Jughead didn't look back up.

"Jughead, did you have any idea that Alice was writing this article?"

That was the first time someone had asked him that; so far it had been obvious to everyone that the article had caught him by surprise. Jughead shook his head emphatically.

"That's…" Fred shook his head as well, in disbelief. "I know it's a digital generation, but she went _way_ past violating your boundaries with what she did. I'm really sorry."

"You didn't do it," Jughead still didn't look up.

Fred's brow knit with concern. "How are your dad and Brandon getting along?"

Jughead looked up then. "Like a whole freaking _subdivision_ on fire."

Fred let out a surprised laugh. "Are you feeling caught in the middle?"

"I _am_ the middle."

Fred thought that sounded about right. And intensely unpleasant. "I know your dad thinks it's important that you get this time with Brandon before he leaves in a couple of weeks," God only knew why, but Fred wasn't about to get into that with Jughead, "but you're allowed to speak up. Your father wants to know what you think, above all else."

"I know."

"I wouldn't mind knowing what you think, too," Fred eyed Jughead.

"I'm not supposed to apologize anymore," Jughead said reluctantly, "but I'm not sure what else I can do. I know you're mad."

Fred blinked. "Jughead... I'm not mad at you."

"About Archie? And the drug dealers?"

"I've set some boundaries. Just for a few weeks. Jughead, this has nothing to do with anything you did," Fred wasn't sure how to explain this, but he was sure going to give it a try. "It's because of what _Brandon_ did, and because of what the _drug_ _dealers_ did. I'm also not thrilled with some of the choices Archie is making, and I'm not sure he can be trusted without careful supervision right now. You may have noticed that he's very angry with Brandon."

"Yeah." It made Jughead uncomfortable to see how mad Archie was about Brand fighting with him the previous fall. It had been a horrible thing to live through, and Archie seemed to bring it up again and again by staying so upset with Brand.

"So... I'm not mad at you. Okay?" Fred saw only skepticism in Jughead's expression and body language and continued trying to explain himself. "I really admire what you did for Trigger, and I think you've shown great strength of character through everything that's happened."

Fred sat down on the edge of the bed. "You reflect well on your father, and-" Fred took a deep breath as he hesitated, knowing full well that Mary would not approve of what he was about to say "-I can see that Brandon is very proud of you too."

"Really?" Jughead looked up at that, and the floodgates opened. "But I'm barely - I mean, I lost Trigger, and I might fail my classes - and I talked to Alice-"

"The fact that you have any chance at all of passing a school year that you barely got to attend is astonishing. And you're dealing with a horrific betrayal from someone you trusted - on a national scale." They both made a face at that thought, which sounded surprisingly harsh when put into words. "You put together quite the search party for Trig, too, all while you're living in - apparently - a burning subdivision." Jughead smiled briefly. "You're handling the unimaginable with poise."

"You should have seen me when I read the article," Jughead smirked darkly. "'Poise' was not the word."

"That's not what I mean," Fred was realizing what part of the problem was. "You're allowed to get upset, and you're even allowed to mess up. People seem to be holding you to a higher standard - a standard of perfection - since your story is so famous. But that's wrong. You deserve _more_ slack right now. More than just about anyone I've ever known. If you're not getting it from people, you should try to find a way to give yourself some."

Jughead wished that didn't make him think of being strung up by his wrists at Jameson's.

"What did I say?" Fred did not miss Jughead's reaction.

"I got myself some slack one time, and then someone took it away," Jughead avoided eye contact again. "I was just... remembering that."

"Did you figure out how to get through that time?" Fred wasn't sure what sort of metaphor they were exploring, but he figured they could play it out.

"Uh," Jughead looked up again, his eyes a little wide. "Yeah. I guess."

"Well…" Fred was confused now. "What did you do to get through it?"

"I focused on breathing. I tried to count, so time would pass more quickly. And then Brand helped me."

Fred abruptly realized that they were _really_ not talking about the same thing. "Oh, uh, that might not be the best example-,"

"I'm... getting that," Jughead cracked a small smile.

"You're a tough young man," Fred cautiously returned the smile. "That isn't an example of the kind of slack I meant, but it is an example of what I admire about you."

"Did Mrs. Andrews send you in here to, like, build up my confidence?" Jughead was suddenly suspicious.

Fred's laugh was appreciative - and loud - and for a few moments the voices in the living room fell silent. "No. No, she didn't. That sounds like something she would think to do, though, doesn't it?"

"Yeah. And it's kind of awkward," Jughead gave Fred a small smile again, to disarm his comment.

"Okay. Enough. How's the studying going for those finals?"

"Are you any good at chemistry?"

"Are you kidding? I own a construction company. There's all kinds of chemistry I have to understand," Fred accepted the textbook Jughead offered him. "What are you reviewing tonight?"

Jughead tried to relax into the study session and forget that much of his fate was being decided outside of his bedroom, in a meeting that he was not a part of.

**00000**

The next knock on the bedroom door surprised both Fred and Jughead. They'd been studying together for about twenty minutes, and it seemed too soon for anyone in the living room to be taking a break.

"Jughead," FP leaned into the bedroom, keeping the door mostly closed. "Sheriff Keller wants to see for himself that you're in one piece. Can he come in?"

Jughead's eyes widened; he wasn't ready to talk to the police, but he didn't think that saying _that _would help anything. "Um. I guess so."

"Hi, Jughead," Sheriff Keller's expression was concerned as FP swung the bedroom door all the way open. "I just want to hear this directly from you: are you okay?"

"Yeah." Jughead looked from Keller to FP to Fred.

"Nobody's pressuring you?"

Jughead shook his head, but his eyes went once again to FP and then to Fred.

Tom frowned. "Have you had dinner?"

"Uh-," Jughead was about to lie when FP realized what he was planning to do and stepped in.

"He hasn't had dinner. It's still on the stovetop. We just got distracted; nobody's trying to starve him." FP gestured for Jughead to come out of the bedroom. "Let's fix that right now. Do you have time to join us, Tom?"

"I'll stay for a few minutes. Thank you," Sheriff Keller regarded Fred and FP; Jughead was behaving oddly, but it didn't seem like Alice Carter's article had inspired another interrogation attempt or anything similar. "I'd actually like to catch up with Agent Davies before I go."

Jughead thought about that for a few seconds, and a slow smile overtook his features as he moved toward the bedroom door.

Keller noticed that and returned the smile, dropping a hand onto the teen's shoulder in relief; it looked like his concerns about Jughead had been for nothing. "Brandon and I have a bone or two to pick."

"Don't let him off too easy," Jughead suggested as they walked out of his bedroom and down the stairs. He shot Brandon a mischievous look across the living room when his godfather looked up. "He had some _very _regrettable lapses in judgment."

**00000**

FP had finished reheating the food and Jughead was setting a couple more places at the table - and swapping the forks and spoons around, FP noted with approval. It seemed like Fred had said or done something that had brought Jughead most of the way back around, and then Keller's arrival had perked him up still further. Made him smile.

His son might be able to get through the fallout of the article and the drug dealers, eventually and painfully, but FP could not ignore what he was seeing. Maybe he needed to work with Brandon, but it was obvious that Jughead needed him to also work with Fred, and with Tom, and maybe find some neighboring villages as well that were willing to help him raise his son. He'd find a way.

Sheriff Keller and Brandon returned from the back yard. Both had very neutral expressions, but FP knew where to look for information: Jughead's smirk suggested that he at least could tell that Brandon had been taken out behind the proverbial woodshed.

FP suddenly wondered whether Jughead would someday be able to read him that way, or if it was a product of having lived for months with Brandon as virtually his only companion. And if Jughead did learn to read FP like that, whether he'd find it to be a blessing or a curse.

Jughead looked over and caught his eye then, and when Jughead cocked his head at FP with a knowing smile, it seemed like that might be a moot point already.

"Come and help me dish the food up," FP motioned Jughead over, returning his smile.

He still tensed when Brandon walked over, took one look at the silverware on the table, and then approached Jughead with a smirk. But Davies just ruffled Jughead's hair and FP was relieved when his son leaned into the contact, bumping shoulders with Brandon, and then reached playfully toward his godfather's hair to mimic his action.

It looked like a ritual - as though Brandon had a habit of getting upset, Jughead watched him for a signal that things were better, and then they had a reunion of sorts. In which case it was no wonder that Davies didn't apologize. This time he had marching orders, though, and FP looked forward to seeing this particular pattern change. Focusing on the change to come, FP tried very hard not to picture what Brandon withdrawing from Jughead might have looked like in Toronto, when there was nobody else for his son to talk to or interact with. For all he knew, it had ranged from locking Jughead up alone for days at a time to taking just a few minutes and letting tempers cool.

And FP's habit of picturing the worst case scenario at every juncture might be unavoidable - but perhaps giving voice to those scenarios was not doing anyone any favors.

He also appreciated that Brandon shot FP a look when Jughead clearly expected some mild horseplay, and instead Davies gently turned Jughead back toward the meal preparation. "Help your father, kid. We can goof off after people have food."

"I won't be able to stay and eat, but thank you again," Sheriff Keller moved toward the door. "I've got a few more stops to make before this will have run its course."

"Of course," Mary Andrews nodded. "I'm actually surprised that you were able to drop by here first."

"I had a few things I wanted to see to right away," Keller smiled briefly to acknowledge Mary's implied thanks. Jughead looked confused, though, and that caught his eye. "Jughead, I want you to know that I'm really glad to see you doing so well. Not everyone is going to have four people coming together to support them this evening. You're lucky to have family and friends who care about you very much."

Jughead was startled. He suddenly realized where Keller was likely going, and what Mrs. Andrews had meant: Alice was going to receive a visit this evening. And she might not be surrounded by people helping her navigate whatever fallout the article would have for her.

Which could be _very_ serious, come to think of it.

Also… "Five." Jughead pushed his hair out of his face as he corrected the sheriff.

"Hm?" Sheriff Keller was turning to open the door.

"Five people. You can count Brand." Jughead figured that was only fair after he'd thrown his godfather under the bus.

"Oh! I was," Keller smiled again. "You're right; it is five. I missed counting myself. I should have, though, and I hope you'll keep counting me too."

"I will. Don't worry." Jughead returned his smile and then smirked over at Brandon again.

Tom Keller shook his head in amazement as he closed the door and walked toward his vehicle. It was like night and day; in spite of everything, and even in the middle of this latest crisis, it was as if FP had worked a miracle with his son over these past weeks - and it looked like that change might have been worked in part on both of them. Even Agent Davies seemed to be making a sincere effort to pitch in and try to help make things right after his profoundly misguided actions.

The decision to invite Brandon to become involved in their lives once more had looked foolhardy at best from a distance, but Keller had to hand it to them: it had been a gamble that might well pay dividends for some time.

**00000**

It was after nine pm when Brand pulled Jughead aside.

"We can talk tonight, or we can talk tomorrow. Your dad wants to be in on some of this, but you and I have a few things to discuss. When do you want to do this?"

Jughead was exhausted, and didn't want to start a serious conversation. But he didn't want everything hanging over him during school the next day, either. That was already going to be difficult enough, and he refused to miss a day of classes. Not with finals coming up so soon. "We can talk now, Brand."

"In your room," Brand motioned. FP gave him a warning look, but then nodded.

"I'll be right out here, Jughead."

"I _know_, dad," Jughead gave Mr. and Mrs. Andrews an embarrassed wave. Mr. Andrews had decided to sit in on some of the scheduling talks now that they apparently had some ideas for how to proceed.

Jughead led Brand into his bedroom and sat down on his bed, leaning against the headboard. Brand sat at the foot of the bed, surveying the room thoughtfully.

"You like it better this way?" Brand asked, gesturing toward the closet's sliding barn door.

"It doesn't make me want to dismantle the room." Jughead's tone was suddenly combative. He had started to feel better about everything before they'd eaten dinner, but now, facing Brand in private, he felt bolder. Angry.

"Ouch."

"Brand, what did you want to talk about?" Jughead pushed his hair out of his face. He knew he had some leverage in this conversation, and somehow seeing that Sheriff Keller had gotten to take Brand down a peg, nice as it was, had not left him feeling satisfied. Instead he felt… inspired. "The closet? My wrists? My dad's shotgun?"

"Yep." Brand stood up and walked over to the closet door, sliding it open and then closed again. "All of that. And I'll tell your dad about your wrists if you want."

"No - don't tell him," Even though Brand was giving him exactly the conversation he'd just moments before wanted - tried - to force, Jughead suddenly felt his agitation melt away and his anxiety return with its full strength. "Brand, you can't stay if he knows about that. If he finds out about everything, he'll make you leave."

"Jones, he's not stupid. He probably already knows. He definitely suspects it. It's not part of our legend - or classified - so it's fair game." Brand walked back to the bed and sat down again, a little closer to Jughead this time. "He and I had a chat. I'm supposed to apologize to you, and I know you're big on those. You want an apology?"

"No," Jughead rubbed his eyes. The redness had faded a good deal, but they were still sore. He needed sleep. "I want you to stay."

"I _am_ actually capable of doing both, kid," Brand said, confused by the logic. He thought over a few of the things that FP had told him while they'd waited for Mary Andrews to arrive. "Your dad... painted a picture for me. I'm not sure how badly the wires got crossed, but it sounds like you may have told him a few weeks back that I treat you worse than I would a dog."

Jughead frowned, trying to recall what he'd said. "Oh. That was about Trigger. What I _actually_ said was that you treat me almost as well as I treat Trigger." Jughead covered his eyes and growled in frustration. "We're playing Telephone - and I'm losing."

"Hey, if anybody's losing, it's me," Brand couldn't help but smile. "And you mean to tell me you said I treat you almost as well as you treat that dog? That's a high compliment, Jones; I feel better already. I've got a little more Telephone to clear up with you, and then I have some other questions."

Jughead sighed.

"First off, I hear you think you deserve to be punished for some stuff. I told your father that the FBI are the ones who taught you that you deserve to be hit - hurt - when you're out of line. Was I lying?"

Jughead stared at him silently, but his expression twisted.

Brand couldn't decide if the belligerence was back - or if it was crumbling. Either way, the kid was having a strong reaction to this one. He felt slightly ill.

Brand rubbed the back of his neck. "I taught you to always fight back as hard as you can, unless it was me. Outside of training, anyway. I hereby rescind that exception. You should _especially_ fight back if it's me. Because from now on that's going to mean alien invasion and body snatchers, and you know I wouldn't want to live that way."

"You promise?" Jughead eyed Brand warily.

"If I do that, we have to talk through all of the exceptions. Training, you're in mortal danger and I have to fight to get you to safety, I have to break your arm to reset it because it healed wrong-,"

"Brand, just…" Jughead stopped. "Never mind. Don't promise; it's too complicated. Just do it."

"There we go. You're getting the hang of this," Brand smiled again. "And hey, I got your father to promise not to threaten to shoot me anymore. It was downright hypocritical of him to do in the first place. It set a terrible example for my godson, and it was definitely a credible threat - since he _was_ already in prison on charges of shooting someone. You're welcome on all counts. I'm keeping your dad out of jail - and, minor side benefit, I don't have to fear for my life anymore."

"He promised not to _threaten_?" Jughead smirked. "You got played."

"I let him _think_ he was playing me," Brand quirked his eyebrows. "He won't shoot without giving fair warning; he's not that type of guy. Never try to outsmart me, kid. _That_ rule still stands."

"Uh-huh," Jughead echoed his dad's I'm-skeptical-but-I'm-letting-it-go tone.

"So, I do have to tell you what I would have done differently if I had it to do all over again." Brand shrugged. "Only slightly better than an apology, but it was the best plea bargain I could swing with your dad."

"This should be good." Jughead folded his arms. "I've been wondering something, though... Did you get paid?"

"For what?" It sounded like a non sequitur.

"For living in the trailer. Taking photos."

Brand thought about that for a few moments. "Huh. You raise a good point. It's not much, though. You might recall that I skipped out on a few paychecks."

"How much?" Jughead's brow furrowed.

"It might get you a beater car if you're not picky. I'll get you a check. Which, I might add, is pretty generous of me; you did destroy my livelihood, you know."

"You're welcome." Jughead smirked.

Brand smirked back. "Ready to hear what I'd have done differently, then?"

"Let's hear it." Jughead suddenly made a face. "Oh, um, one more thing."

"So many demands, Jones. It's like you know that everyone threatened me today and you get the tiebreaker vote on my fate or something. Oh, wait-," Brand rolled his eyes.

Jughead bit his lip. "It's not a demand. Just… please don't go back to Canada mad. Or disappear. Even if I screw things up again."

"Okay, there's one more thing you should know." Brand shook his head. This conversation was all out of order, and he could hardly believe none of this had been aired over the previous weeks they'd spent together. "Remember what I said when I told you I couldn't drop you off in a basket on Fred and Archie's doorstep? Back when you thought that would solve everything, and I could get out of Riverdale?"

Jughead nodded. "In the trailer."

"Yeah," Brand eyed the barn door again. "Anyway, I said I wouldn't leave you to face everything alone. You know what's changed since then?"

"Let me guess: nothing. You're still there for me, in _exactly_ the same way." Jughead's tone was sarcastic, though he was watching Brand closely.

"No. I like you more now," Brand said simply. "You and I went far beyond anything I'd done before as a professional. Believe it or not, I didn't always know what I was doing. But I trained you, gave you my _name_, and I even - accidentally - took full legal responsibility for you for about five minutes. Which we both know was more than enough time for you to create a world of trouble for me."

Brand smirked again when Jughead rolled his eyes. "So I won't disappear, and I won't leave mad. I might _get_ mad, but I'll try not to be a jerk about it again. I was not on my best behavior today; we've got serious problems and I'm stressed. I can probably see clear to do a little better on that."

"So… what would you do differently if you did it all over again?" Jughead was getting curious now.

"Oh, well, let me tell you," Brand smiled and got comfortable on the bed. "So, going _way_ back to my first visit to Riverdale…"

**00000**

"Brand! _No_, Brand!" Jughead was suddenly audible in the room where FP was going over schedules with Mary and Fred, and something was off about his tone.

FP knocked over his chair at the dining room table and had the bedroom door open in moments. "Davies, _what_ _goes_ _on in your head_?"

Jughead still looked aggrieved, and Brandon was practically holding him down on the bed, trying to shush him. Brandon sat up quickly, letting go of Jughead and raising his hands placatingly.

"Dad, he _killed_ my horse." Jughead couldn't quite keep a straight face, and suddenly he was snorting with laughter at his father's expression. Brandon looked over at him, then back at FP, and he started cracking up as well.

Considering how little sleep Jughead had gotten the night before, it was certainly well past his bedtime. It was strange seeing him this relaxed so quickly after being so upset, too - though FP could not picture Brandon being quite so foolish as to slip him narcotics again. It might just be a stress response.

It was also one more reminder that Jughead had spent months without appropriate spaces for relaxing and acting his age. Making jokes and teasing at inappropriate moments made a lot of sense; it seemed likely that he'd carved that space out for himself, and figured out how to wedge himself securely into it at a moment's notice, to give himself a break from the nonstop stress.

And right now it looked an awful lot like Brandon had learned how to climb into that space with Jughead and shelter with him there, at least for a little while.

FP felt a rush of envy, watching Jughead continue to laugh at - with - Brandon. He'd come close to managing some of that when Jughead had the flu, but they had not gotten a lot of time since then to reinforce the progress they'd made.

Although Brandon had apparently killed Jughead's horse. _Whatever_ that was supposed to mean, with the dog missing that seemed like it could only be a bad move on Davies' part. FP glared.

"You just ruined the next part, Jones," Brandon gave him a longsuffering look even as he continued to chuckle. "FP, don't worry - the horse isn't dead, it just ran off with the wild horses and Jones _thought_ it was dead. Anyway, the nice foster parents and the mysteriously buff and competent ranch hand who arranged his placement with them will figure it out - and save the ranch in the process. Spoiler alert. Anyway, Jones, to get back to the Innocence Project and their progress on clearing your dad's name-,"

"Hang on, Brandon. Is _this_ your idea of an apology?" FP stared at Davies. This was not what they'd agreed on. Or maybe it was, technically, in some universe. But not really. Not even close.

"It may have become a western set primarily in Montana, but yeah." Brand shrugged, and his eyes were full of laughter when Jughead gave him a teasing 'you're in big trouble now' look. "This would have been a far better route for me to take. I regret everything."

"Come on, forget dad and prison - what about the cattle rustler gang with the rattlesnake tattoos?" Jughead shot FP a cheeky grin.

"Ooh, not nice at all, kid," Brandon shook his head. "We'll have you out of the slammer in a jiffy, FP. In spite of your offspring's questionable priorities."

"Jug, you need sleep," FP walked over to the bed and sat down next to Jughead. He'd let it go for now. As much as he thought a more… _traditional_ apology was appropriate, this version did seem to be having the desired effect, at least so far - they'd see if anything actually changed in the longer term. "Brandon can finish the story tomorrow."

"Like _One_ _Thousand_ _and_ _One_ _Nights_, Brand," Jughead nodded in mock approval. "You can stay until you run out of stories."

Brand felt it in his stomach when he recalled Roy's nickname for Jones and the months spent pushing for Jones' execution that had inspired it. Yes, Brand had made some hasty decisions, and not all had been good ones. He wasn't proud of everything he'd done.

But he _was_ darn proud that they were both alive. It had been quite the fight, and he was still amazed that they had won. Even if it sometimes felt like there was an asterisk next to each of their names.

Brand noticed FP relaxing as he saw that Jones was okay, and that the kid was doing better. A faint sense of longing shocked Brand - he kind of wished FP would tell him that _he'd_ done his best in a bad situation; it had worked; that he did not need to apologize for what he'd done.

But it was fine. The kid needed that sort of reassurance far more, and had richly deserved their miniature, two-person debriefing. It was long overdue.

"Your father's right, Jones; it's bedtime." Brand tousled Jughead's hair, and his eyes met FP's. "But yeah, this is a story I'll see to the end."

**00000**

Alice was learning a lot.

She'd previously known words such as 'libel' before there were suddenly questions about whether she was on the wrong side of the term. Alice felt she could defend herself against any claim of 'stalking,' but 'harassment' sounded trickier right away. Questions about how old she was, to the month, to assess the full potential for her legal accountability were also not a good sign.

The fact-checking of everything in the lengthy, not-even-remotely-edited rough draft version of the article that had been published - right down to whether she'd used any word choice that might have implied something more than what she'd actually known at the time - was brutal. She was embarrassed and horrified about some of the thoughtless phrasing that had just gone... everywhere.

Moreover, the fact that she hadn't technically been the one to hit 'Send' was not getting her any traction with anyone. The article had been queued up on her computer and her mother had done little more than set into motion a much rougher draft of what Alice had already planned to do before she got cold feet. In that sense it was nothing more than what Alice had already done.

And Alice was fast realizing that she'd had no idea what her mother was asking of her with this article. It was terrifying to find herself right in the middle of a hurricane of fallout.

The defense lawyers were devastated, despite Alice's mother being happier than she'd seen her in years. Bryn seemed entirely disconnected from the reality of the situation, and that was becoming scary to witness. The article might well spike the trial, but not in the way that Alice's mother had predicted: it would be in all of the worst ways possible. The legal team had lost weeks of work, and many of their strategies were abruptly useless.

Apparently Jonas' image with the media had been nigh unto irrevocably controversial… right up until his underage classmate soundly corroborated (and dramatically elaborated on) some of the most vulnerable moments of his time as a 'secret agent.' Times when he'd just barely been keeping himself in one piece - and yet he'd been soldiering on, even when he could do little more than pray for his own survival.

The idea that he'd been literally running for his life because he was too young to have a driver's license (untrue, but Alice had included the line until she could find out for sure) might just be the most humanizing vignette possible. And Alice was learning that she was not the only person whose protective instincts came to the fore when confronted by Jonas Davies' desperate plight.

Alice had also firmly and completely tied Jonas' timeline and experiences to her father just by being there and being Daniel Carter's daughter; the defense was abandoning any attempt at arguing that Jonas and her father had barely known each other. That claim looked laughable now, even though it was largely true.

The incident with the attack and Alice opening the car door to save Jonas apparently not only made her look far more powerful and involved in events - as if! - but it also raised questions about her own character and potential misdeeds (a lot of "apples" and "trees" were mentioned in the earliest response articles that were popping up), even while answering a lot of questions about Jonas.

The new consensus was that he could not be overly lethal or dangerous to those around him, and he could not be lying about the personal risk he'd faced - or about his fragile grasp on autonomy and safety during those months.

After all, an obviously injured man had grabbed him from a bustling, touristy area in broad daylight, more or less by one arm, and simply hustled him away. Likely to die.

Jonas suddenly looked so much more than legitimate. He looked vulnerable but scrappy, courageous in the face of overwhelming odds - and he looked like he'd been willing to die for a mission he'd never signed on for. Because he very nearly had.

He didn't even look suspicious or close-mouthed due to his lengthy silence and lack of media presence. Jonas looked inspiringly humble in his reticence, and every inch a patriot who'd been willing to fall on the sword of bad press in order to protect classified information.

Yes, Alice's article had wrought a minor miracle: Jonas now looked to the public like an unqualified hero.

"Mary Andrews ought to have you on payroll." One lawyer was particularly disdainful about the whole thing as his long hours of work were rendered useless - and he was shifted off of Daniel's case to instead defend Alice against the suit Mary Andrews would likely bring. "Nothing was going to redeem that kid. Not like this. Real nice work, Alice."

Bryn Carter had yet to speak directly to Alice about any of this. She tutted from a distance, but assured Alice that the lawyers were the important people for her to talk to right now. All the same, Bryn did not even try to hide her pleased smile through the questioning, the sighs, and the frustrated exclamations as new articles and 'responses' mushroomed up - a new one every few minutes.

Then Sheriff Keller dropped by.

Alice was well aware that he was already on the Joneses' side, and there was nothing she'd be able to do to get a fair hearing, let alone any form of support from him. This was more a matter for the lawyers anyway, and he'd only dropped by to gather information and check in.

Keller seemed surprised to see the army of lawyers, and pleased. Alice couldn't begin to interpret that, unless it was because he was glad to see that the Carters had needed to hit the panic button - since that was a good sign for the Jones family.

Most of the sheriff's questions were about keeping Alice safe. That was something nobody had even mentioned yet, and it raised all kinds of horrifying new questions. Apparently credible threats were likely. She wondered if they were already happening. The local community was already having a strong response, just hours after the article had gone live.

"Are you planning to attend school tomorrow?" Sheriff Keller had asked, sympathy and concern in his tone.

It had never occurred to Alice not to.

Everything had changed. Maybe permanently.

"Of course she will," Bryn interjected. "She should be proud. She's a whistleblower. A truth-teller."

Sheriff Keller looked profoundly uncomfortable then, and he took that as his cue to take his leave - and Alice knew how he felt.

She wished she could go with him.

**00000**

Rose called late that night on the burner phone.

Brand was sitting in his car once again, keeping an eye on the Joneses' home from a discreet distance. It was a relief to be done with the _endless_ lectures about his behavior for one day.

The message could not have been any clearer, though: it wasn't enough to stick his own neck out for Jones - even after learning that the kid had secretly rigged a full-on guillotine over them both. Brand also needed to maintain absolute control over his temper from now on, no matter what, or FP would boot him out of Riverdale - and have Tom Keller's blessing, and likely also the use of the sheriff's cruiser to do so.

Brand probably didn't need to worry as much as he did about what would happen once he went back to Canada. The Riverdale crew could be pretty hostile when they wanted to be, and when it came to Jones: they wanted to be.

And to be fair, the day had not been one long onslaught of bad news. It had been a pleasant surprise - an astonishing one - to learn that FP might be willing to play ball. There could be a whole new set of options on the table if Brand didn't screw that up and FP didn't think better of his blind offer to help Brand out-maneuver Rose.

Brand couldn't picture them managing to work together for any length of time, to be honest, with their strong ideas and even stronger personalities.

But that was also the beauty of it: Rose would never see them coming.

FP's offer had shifted the ground under Brand's feet. Nobody _ever_ made an offer like FP had: to let Brand lead him like a freaking seeing eye dog - when it came to his son's life, no less. It was the right call, and it might save both Jones and Brand if things did go south. But man. The kid's father certainly had a pair; he might actually be a formidable, useful partner should it come to that.

"My faith was not misplaced, I see." Rose always took charge of their chats.

Brand had long since gotten used to the bizarre openings in their phone conversations, and he just waited for the Emperor Palpatine portion of their chat to conclude.

Rose sounded giddy, though. That was new.

"Alice Carter was that easy to buy off? I'll see that you're reimbursed, of course - with a generous bonus. You are worth every penny, Brandon, and might just deserve a raise. And Jones…" Rose's tone became almost awed. "He is going to be a phenomenon. Sure, the intensity will wear off soon enough, maybe in a year or two, but he'll have his pick of colleges - which will mean an ongoing benefit for the life of his career - and the media afterglow may well be permanent. There will be follow-ups for decades. That will open doors that money never could."

Rose's tone turned abruptly businesslike. "Has he mentioned any interest in the Secret Service during your vacation together?"

Brand was glad that he'd waited for Rose to show his cards. He took a slow breath to give his brain enough oxygen to absorb everything that his employer had said.

"I'm not on vacation." There, that was a good start. "And Jones isn't ready to consider a career in law enforcement. Let him take the SATs first, Rose. Trust me on this one."

"You've certainly earned it," Rose had a smile in his voice now. "Keep this up and you'll make partner."

Brand was pretty sure that position did not exist, nor did he want it to. Unless it meant being the last one standing when Rose retired, which was when he planned to time his own seamless retirement from the last of his criminal associations.

In which case he'd consider it. Brand supposed he could at least listen if this turned out to be anything more than a throwaway line. It might be his best route for getting Jones out cleanly, after all. Options were always good.

"Well, I was just calling to congratulate you. Don't pass my congratulations along to the boy; we need his feet firmly on the ground." Rose paused for a moment. "Buy him a puppy, though. He needs a suitable replacement for the Shepherd, and he's earned something nice. Make it a large breed. Not some useless rat."

"We'll see," Brand was not buying anyone a puppy.

"You know best," Rose's smile was back. "Keep up the excellent work, Brandon."

The phone disconnected.

Well. At least it hadn't been another lecture about getting his act together.

Brand rubbed his neck; this was going to take some time to think through properly. Because Rose being angry was the worst-case scenario...

But Rose being a little too happy with Jones and starting to make plans for him might be a close second.

**00000**

**This chapter is so long that I literally split it (after Brand's 'apology' for anyone who is curious), and figured the rest would be the start of the next chapter... but I didn't like it that way, because we didn't get the momentum with Alice and Rose to bring us firmly into the next chapter (I know - you 100% read these notes hoping I'll dish/complain about this sort of thing, right? :-D). But the length... Someday I'll figure out pacing for individual chapters that has less to do with my feeling like the content balances, and actually looks (just a little bit?) more balanced in terms of word count. :-D**

**I hope you enjoyed! I really did. My favorite chapter is usually the one I'm currently working on, and this one was no exception! Drop me a review if you are able (they'll keep me going! :-D ), and thank you for reading!**

**-Button**


	8. Chapter 8

**Chapter Eight! **

**Living Lucid Dream, I am always so glad to hear that you love Fred as much as I do - and that was such a lovely compliment about that scene; thank you. :-D He brings so much, all the time. And yeah, FP's got some single parent (with long work hours) frustration going, but it was great to hear that you liked that moment and his process of slowly gaining ground - on his own insecurities as well as on the complexities of the situation. Brand's arc has taken me by surprise, too. I thought he might just be himself, and everyone else would adjust/compensate, but FP has not allowed that - and he has been undeniable. It's good for Jug, and shockingly I think it's good for Brand and he might continue to grow...? I'm looking forward to finding out!**

**Thanks for the review and the great news, Skyrider45! I'll be watching for the chapter (no rush; do your thing; I am enjoying the anticipation in the meantime! :). Also, the money chat was a late-ish addition to last chapter - I'm glad that worked! And yay Fred! (but yeah, awkward as well... he's _just_ outside of the action for a lot of this story so far, and that's making it tougher for him to get a bead on things at times) Yay for Rose, too - everything's brewing in the background, and I'm just enjoying the story so much that... it's sprawling. I saw it coming, and it's happening. The plot keeps on keeping on, but a lot is happening and it's getting time and space to happen... :)**

**I'm so glad you liked the heart to heart scenes, Guest! Fred and Brand stole the show, I agree, and I do think you have a good point about Alice/Jug. I'm curious about where those two end up, and how. Rose is so complex, too... I'm not sure when that will come to a head, but it's definitely going to happen at some point!**

**Enjoy!**

**-Button**

**00000**

Alice approached the school steps the next morning with a strong feeling that she was bracing for impact.

She'd made the mistake of logging on to the school newspaper site early that morning.

It had been worse than ugly. The article was long gone from the school paper's site, but anything that was open to receive comments, messages, or communications of any kind had been flooded. As editor of _The Blue and Gold_, Alice had access to it all - and she'd been unable to look away. The gist was more or less the same, almost across the board: that Alice was a sick opportunist whose attempt to 'glorify her own actions' in print was every bit as deplorable as the attempted kidnapping and murder undertaken by the criminals who had gone after Jughead. She was 'exploiting' him; no doubt 'stalking' him; she was a traitor to two separate countries for putting into print details that two undercover 'heroes' had elected not to share with the public. Alice had a vague sense that she was unable to absorb and process anything mitigating at the moment, but it really seemed so far as though the public was united in their censure of her.

Now, walking up to the building in the final minutes before classes began for the day, Alice was dismayed to see that several familiar people were standing right in front of the doors to Riverdale High.

Betty Cooper was front and center.

Jughead was not there - Alice really needed to call him that from now on; the online comments had not been kind about her inconsistency regarding his name in the article - but Archie Andrews, Veronica Lodge, and Kevin Keller were flanking Betty. It looked like they were nervous. It looked like they were waiting.

The odds that they were not waiting for Alice seemed... low.

"Betty, we really ought to...," Veronica's voice trailed off as Alice walked up, preparing herself to push through what might be a brutal exchange of words. She just needed to get past them. Through the day. She could figure out what to do after that.

Betty's arm was suddenly blocking Alice's path, though.

And then that arm went around her.

Betty Cooper was hugging her.

Alice looked up at Archie, who was almost directly in front of her now. His expression looked as shocked as she was certain her own was.

"Um, Betty?" Kevin spoke now, his voice filled with the same surprise that - oh, yes - was all over Veronica's face as well.

"Thank you." Betty was not letting go. "I never knew that you saved him."

Oh.

"I didn't really-," Alice tried to extricate herself from Betty's embrace.

"He'd be gone." Betty released Alice, but did not move out of her way. "We might never have found him."

Alice looked from Betty to the others. They all looked uncomfortable, but Veronica was reluctantly nodding.

"That... is a very fair point." Veronica took a deep breath. "Alice, if anyone gives you any trouble, you can let us know. I'm not sure what we'll be allowed to do-,"

"This whole thing is pretty major, so let's just keep it that you can let _me _know," Archie interrupted, agreeing with Veronica but clearly having a strong opinion on the subject and wanting it aired right away. "You can't go anywhere near Jughead. And my mother doesn't want any of us around you either, so don't be talking to Veronica. Or Betty." Betty did not miss that her name was almost an afterthought, and she caught Veronica's frown as well. "But yeah, I'll see what I can do to try and make sure that people at least keep in mind that you helped Jug."

Alice's eyes filled with tears.

They let her pass.

**00000**

Jughead knew that Brand was advocating that he cut his hair - soon - so that it was shorter for the interview, yet didn't look too freshly cut. Apparently he might even have a weird tan line if he didn't cut it soon enough. Brand definitely had too much time on his hands if he was thinking about all of those things but, according to him, someone needed to.

Tan line or not, though, it was a good thing they hadn't cut his hair yet. Jughead was relieved to have the buffer of his hair falling forward as everyone at school stared at him, spoke to him encouragingly about things he'd never wanted anyone to know, and even glanced down at his wrists as if they might still bear marks from Brand's 'lesson.'

The day was warm, but Jughead thought longingly of the fleece jacket and gloves that Brand had sent in the boxes. They were somewhere in his room at home, and they had covered up everything - for the most part - when it had originally happened in Toronto.

"Jones, I'd be more than happy to give you a tutorial on how to open a car door," Reggie Mantle fell into step with Jughead in the hallway. Jughead ducked his head and picked up his pace, crossing his arms defensively when Reggie simply matched his stride. "I get it. They can be overwhelming. There's at _least_ two steps-,"

"Back off, Reggie," Archie appeared, seemingly out of nowhere, his voice low and angry. "Or _you'll_ get a tutorial on getting into college without a highschool sport."

Reggie's eyes went wide and he put his hands up as if he was about to protest - but when he saw Archie's expression, he turned and walked away quickly.

"You won't be able to do that every time." Jughead did not look up.

"You think any of the other Bulldogs are going to try that now?" Archie's tone was still angry, but dark amusement was mixed in now. "You think anyone who's _not _a Bulldog will try pulling that sort of crap on you?"

Jughead looked up at Archie then. "Good point. Thanks." Jughead tried to uncross his arms and relax his posture, but it didn't feel right. He folded them again. Archie seemed to be waiting for a report. "So. Brand says it's a landslide victory. Which is not what we thought last night. But it honestly isn't a whole lot better knowing that people _like_ me and know… stuff."

"We all just have questions."

"Not right now, okay?" Jughead gave him a pleading look. He knew he couldn't avoid his friends' questions forever, but he had not even wrapped his own head around the article yet. He felt like he needed to reread it from start to finish now that he knew it had been well received - and try to re-see the whole thing from whatever perspective the public apparently brought to the article. Because all he saw when he read it was a series of lurid snapshots of the repercussions from his weakest moments in Toronto, when he'd made impulsive decisions that had nearly gotten himself - and Brand - killed.

"No, man. That's not what I'm saying at all." Archie was suddenly impassioned. "Everyone is just going to have to learn to live with that. Sometimes... we have questions. That's not your problem. You know, I understand now why my mother worked so hard to keep the press away. I always got it, I guess. But now I _get_ it."

Jughead wasn't sure that could be true. Not fully. But he didn't want it to ever be true for Archie, so maybe that was a good thing.

"Oh, uh, there's other news," Archie's expression was suddenly conflicted. "Alice Carter came to school."

"Really?" Jughead's jaw dropped. "But - everything is so-,"

"Yeah. But she did." Archie paused, but went ahead and said it anyway: "And Betty found out from her mother that she'd be in school. She waited in front of school for Alice this morning - and hugged her. Because she saved your life. And I said we'd just… remind people that she helped you. But not, like, talk to her again."

Jughead gaped at Archie. "Now? Now that I'm really not okay with-," Jughead stopped when there was a stir at the end of the hallway.

Both Jughead and Archie turned to look, and there was Alice. She was walking toward the restroom, and every eye seemed to be on her.

She disappeared into the Ladies' room, her head down and her steps quick.

Jughead bit his lip. "Thanks, Archie."

"Not a problem."

They split up and headed to their respective classes.

**00000**

At lunch, Betty was in overdrive. She shooed people away from their table, cutting them off in conversation politely but firmly if they did not give up right away when she blocked them from approaching.

Jughead finally tugged on her arm when she got up to explain yet again that Jughead appreciated everyone's concern but needed a 'break' to eat in peace. "I barely get to see you. Your bouncer impression is impressive, but could we maybe actually eat together?"

Veronica was sitting with them, while Archie had taken up position relatively near Alice: close enough to scare off anyone who might approach her, but far enough from her seat that they were not eating lunch 'together' in any sense of the word.

Betty shot one last look around the room, as if someone might be starting their way now, halfway through lunch period. She sat down heavily, her frustration evident. "Sorry; I'm - obviously - a little worked up. I've been fielding questions all day and nobody believes me that I don't know any more than they do. And a few people have been _really_ aggressive."

Jughead eyed her. "Is that… weird for you?"

"Juggie, are you seriously asking me if I feel weird about the article being published like this and people acting like I should know - and tell them - private details about you and Brand? Yes. Obviously." Betty frowned at Jughead's guarded expression. "But if you're asking whether I'm weirded out that you didn't tell me about everything in the article, then the answer is no. I don't know when we _could_ have talked about anything like that. Things have been nuts ever since you were in the hospital."

"Yeah. Okay. That's true." Jughead wasn't sure if that was a reprieve from having to explain why he hadn't shared, or if it was sort of the truth: they _hadn't_ had a chance to really talk. "People shouldn't hassle you, though. You can just tell them it's none of their business; you don't have to be so nice about it."

"I don't want it to be another 'thing,'" Betty waved her hands as if that would explain what she meant. "You know - people who ask questions get shut down too hard, and then there's a backlash, and-,"

"You are not my PR person." Jughead spoke firmly - this was disturbing territory to enter with his girlfriend - but he managed a small smile so that his words would not sound too harsh. He was honestly impressed by how thoughtful the idea was and, a little cynically, amused that Betty thought it would make any difference at all. "Mrs. Andrews and Brand have got that more than covered, so you can stand down - and you can just be rude. People will take the hint eventually."

They saw someone approach Alice's table then, and Archie cleared his throat so loudly that people at two neighboring tables looked up to watch the curious student scurry away from Alice without saying a word.

Jughead tacked an amendment onto his statement: "I hope."

"So, uh- I wanted to ask you something," Veronica's voice was hesitant, but her expression made it clear that this was important to her. "Brandon was... _really_ scary yesterday. Is the stuff in the article some of the reason why?"

Jughead had not forgotten that Veronica had witnessed quite a bit the previous day, but he'd kind of hoped that they could go on as if nothing had happened. It was abruptly clear that was wishful thinking - and maybe even unfair to Veronica.

Not that he had a whole lot to say on the subject. "Sort of."

"And he really was protecting you that whole time. Not just at the end, when your cover was blown," Veronica frowned, frustrated by her inability to express precisely what she meant. "I mean… it wasn't just a hypothetical danger."

Jughead tried not to react sarcastically. After all, he was the one who hadn't shared any of this. He kept his eyes on his sandwich. "It was not hypothetical, no."

All three fell silent as they continued to eat, and Jughead began to wonder what Betty and Veronica were thinking. Asking seemed unwise, though; after all, he'd been dodging questions all day.

Then Betty spoke, sliding a hand over Jughead's forearm. "It must have been hard leaving Brand in Toronto. Scary."

Jughead froze. Nobody had understood that. He'd gotten _used_ to nobody understanding that. Maybe - Jughead sneaked a quick glance around the lunch room - maybe everyone knew that about him now. Maybe the _whole world_ knew what he hadn't been able to explain to his father for long, painful weeks, a dynamic that was still haunting their relationship and making them uneasy whenever Jughead's anxiety worsened over the notes and FP could not reassure him - because only Brand fully understood, and only Brand could protect him if something did eventually happen.

He only felt safe with Brand.

Jughead's stomach lurched. His relationship with 'Agent Davies' had already been a spectator sport - but now the messiest, most twisted part of his reunification with his dad was too.

"I'm sorry." Betty bit her lip and withdrew her hand. "That's - it's none of my business."

"No, it's okay. You're fine," Jughead reassured her. He left it at that, though, and Betty looked worried.

"Jughead Jones," Principal Weatherbee approached their table before Jughead could think of anything else to say that might set Betty's mind at ease.

Jughead took the opportunity to catch Betty's eye and made a quick gesture that only she could see, inviting her to act as his bouncer one more time.

Betty widened her eyes and shook her head, visibly relaxing as she tried not to laugh at his impish expression.

"Principal Weatherbee?" Jughead looked up as innocently as he could manage.

"Come by my office before the end of school today, please. We need to discuss some arrangements." The principal gave Jughead a reassuring look to indicate that he was not in any trouble, though Jughead's mind was already racing. "And I hope you'll be sure to let me - or any teacher - know if you need anything."

"Okay," Jughead agreed quickly, hoping to end the conversation. He tried not to look around at the stares he knew were focused on him and Weatherbee. "I will."

"Good." Principal Weatherbee nodded firmly. "We'll talk more then."

As he turned to walk away, Jughead saw the principal's eyes drop to his wrists.

Jughead let his hair fall forward and checked the time before focusing on his sandwich; he was almost certain that lunch period could not last forever.

**00000**

After school, following the plan that Principal Weatherbee had explained in their brief strategy meeting, Jughead found Brand waiting in his rental car by a side door that was typically locked and alarmed. His godfather was wearing sunglasses and scanning the area more obviously than usual.

Because the media had descended on Riverdale High.

Principal Weatherbee had been in communication with Brand (who had been given all sorts of privileges by FP to work with the school, a product of the meeting with Mrs. Andrews the night before and a surprise to Jughead) and they'd arranged evasive maneuvers to spare both Jughead and the school fallout from the many photographers and reporters.

"Is this happening at home too?" Jughead opened the car door and hopped in. He had visions of their lawn being trampled, and maybe Trig coming home - and getting himself into trouble in an attempt to defend the property.

"Not yet, but we're not taking any chances with the piranhas," Brand motioned to indicate the phalanx of photographers stationed by the main entrance, barely at the edge of school property. "Mary Andrews is working right now on taking your name off of things and getting your father some privacy. Construction sites are not set up to accommodate the paparazzi." Jughead's eyes widened. "Your dad's fine; Fred's figuring that out. And Mary said she'll make it painful for anyone who comes too close to the house. Weatherbee's going to coordinate with me for the last few days of school, and we might put you on an alternate finals schedule. I'll try to buy you more study time if you want." Brand smiled, but it was a weak attempt at making light of the situation.

"Spy versus spy, huh? If we have the option, let's not prolong finals any longer than we have to. It probably won't make a difference if I get an extra day or two," Jughead reclined his seat as far as it would go, since the front windows were not tinted as darkly as the back ones. Brand gave him a concerned look but did not comment - instead he removed his sunglasses to hand them to his godson. "Can we still look for Trig?"

"Not with this going on." Brand navigated the car away from Riverdale High. "But I got some posters up this morning with one of the photos I took of you and Trigger." Jughead nodded. "It's been picked up by news outlets already; photos of you move _fast_, kid. It should help if anyone sees him. Oh, and in case you're interested, one of my bosses wanted me to buy you a puppy."

"Really?" Jughead figured that could only mean Rose. "Did he… know where Trigger went?" That was a horrifying thought, but Jughead was feeling more than a little paranoid. He figured that was allowed, especially after what had happened with Alice.

"No. He's a very busy man." Brand had actually had the same thought, but he'd seen how irrational Jones could be about that dog. He wasn't going to wind the kid up and point him in Rose's direction. "He was just impressed by the article. Wanted to do something for you."

"Oka-ay," Jughead found Rose creepy. He vividly remembered meeting him, but felt that he had no understanding of the shadowy figure. Rose seemed like the villain in a ghost story most of the time. Serious, scary, and wholly without benevolence. Getting any positive feedback from those quarters was not just unexpected; it was mystifying, and a little unwelcome.

Nevertheless, Jughead knew that this was good news. Very good news. It might be unsettling to hear that Rose wanted to give him a puppy, but it had been deeply, deeply relieving to hear that he would not be rescinding protection from Jughead and Brand and their friends and family.

"The FBI will be over tonight," Brand kept his tone neutral. He hoped they could get through that with a minimum of fuss. "Want to discuss anything before they show up?"

"Um," Jughead thought about that. "At this point they know more than my dad. But he knows the stuff about Alice. If I tell them the stuff about Alice-,"

"Your dad knows what he's doing," Brand interrupted. "Just talk to the FBI. He'll keep his mouth shut."

"But after they leave-"

"FP isn't going to lean on you." Brand sounded entirely sure of himself.

Jughead raised an eyebrow at him skeptically.

"He's learning to be a more trusting person," Brand smirked when Jughead snorted. "Really, kid, I think your dad's finally realizing that he doesn't need to know everything in order to be useful. And he's deciding he'd rather be useful than know everything."

Jughead thought about their conversations about Alice, and also the 'dress rehearsal' discussing the article. "Did he say that?"

"Nope. Your dad won't talk about it, so don't you go messing with things."

"He'd talk to me." It was Jughead's turn to sound certain. Though he knew it would rub his dad the wrong way and make him all kinds of uncomfortable, Jughead was sure that they could have the conversation if he asked. He wouldn't ask, though; if FP was trying to help, and somehow managing to trust Brand and Jughead to be his eyes and ears in the situation, then that was more than enough. He didn't need his dad to say it.

"You'll grow into that." Brand sounded thoughtful.

"What?"

"You've got some good genes, kid," Brand shot Jughead an appraising look. "You won't be fighting to overcome them when you finally learn some self-control."

"Yeah. Just gotta worry about addiction is all," Jughead spoke darkly before he fully realized what he was saying. "Uh, I mean-"

"Another reason we'll be keeping you away from the narcotics from now on," Brand's tone was light, but his eyebrows lowered. They were almost home. "I'm not sure you could handle what FP managed when he quit drinking. Not yet, anyway."

Jughead blinked. Brand had never been complimentary about his dad before. "What did dad _say_ to you?"

"And once again, kid, it's not about _saying_ something. You have to _do_ things." Brand gave Jughead a significant look.

Which answered nothing.

**00000**

The meeting with the FBI took place that evening.

FP arrived home, had dinner with his son and 'the au pair' (a new nickname that made Brandon visibly twitch the first time he used it), did the dishes while the other two cleaned the living room and dining room area, and then they all talked strategy for the interview until it was time for the two federal agents to arrive. Brandon excused himself and went to his hotel for the night.

There was no offer of water, no thoughtful box of tissues, and Brandon had confiscated the bag of miniature chocolate bars that Mary Andrews had brought to their lengthy meeting the previous evening. Jughead and FP claimed the couch right away so that the agents were left with two dining room chairs. The wooden chairs were not uncomfortable, but they did not invite lingering.

If it hadn't been too obvious, FP might have tried to engineer no bathroom breaks.

The two agents were new to FP. He went into full alert mode when Jughead recognized both and greeted them by name, but the woman smiled and asked in a concerned tone how he was holding up without Trigger. Jughead sighed pitifully and asked if they had any man hours that they could devote to a missing dog. Both agents expressed their regrets that they couldn't help with the search.

And that was basically the tenor of the entire meeting.

Apparently these agents were from 'debrief: the early days.' Jughead - shockingly - liked them both, and FP got to hear a little more once they had left.

"They brought me care packages. I had to stay on site; the food was fine, but-," Jughead smiled at the memory. "They would take turns and bring me a bag or a box every day, with American stuff in it. Oreos and that kind of thing. When I said I missed croissants, Agent Sarah" - because yes, she had gone by her first name with Jug - "made me some and brought them to a morning session. They were still warm."

It sounded like a 'tactic' to FP, but it had obviously felt like Christmas to Jughead. FP decided that he wouldn't speculate and risk rewriting the emotional valence of those memories for his son.

"I know. I'm a sucker for junk food. But they had fun too, and everyone trusts you more if they've done you a favor. Or six," Jughead smirked.

FP acknowledged that it was a good strategy. "Is that why you asked the FBI to search for your dog?"

"Agent Sarah is really nice," Jughead shrugged. "I thought she actually might. And if she does hear anything, I'm pretty sure she'll call us."

Huh. It was definitely not all of the FBI setting Jughead off.

FP was glad that someone had finally wised up and seen fit to send out people that they knew got along with Jughead. But he _really_ didn't like what all of this suggested about Agents Russell and Donn.

**00000**

Tobias Russell had to get back to work. He'd be able to take more vacation days soon, but for the time being he had to put in some face time on a couple of active cases.

All of which meant managing the world's most aggressive German Shepherd in his studio apartment for a minimum of a week. It wasn't like he could take it to a kennel, and he would _not_ risk losing it.

Russell had been entirely frustrated in his efforts in Riverdale. The dog was not the problem; securing it had achieved its two primary benefits. Jones no longer had the dog as a layer of protection, and the kid could now be motivated by someone who had his pet.

No, the big hitch in everything had been Agent Davies, who had not let Jones out of his sight from the moment he'd realized the dog had disappeared. He didn't seem to be welcome to spend nights at the house, a dynamic which Russell could not figure out, but he'd been sleeping in his car (or awake in his car; it was impossible to tell, which was a large part of the problem) and only left his post after the kid had gone to school each morning.

Then Davies personally picked Jones up from school each afternoon.

It was almost as if the man suspected that the dog's disappearance was the harbinger of a threat to Jones' safety. There wasn't anything else that had tipped his hand, though, so Russell figured the hunch would seem far weaker - and maybe even downright foolish - to Davies in no more than a few days. By the time Russell got back into position, Jones would be back off of the short leash his father and 'godfather' had put him on after his dog had been taken.

And Russell would be ready.

**00000**

**Not a monster chapter (whew!), but we've got forward movement! And... ta-da! (we've been waiting so long for word on Trig, I know) Once again, Living Lucid Dream, you read Brand's mind - this time about Rose and Trig. :) I'll look forward to any and all reviews as I'm working on the next chapter. I hope you all have a lovely weekend!**

**-Button**


	9. Chapter 9

**Chapter Nine! So many things are getting into position for... _action_.**

**Thank you for the encouraging review (and update!), Skyrider45! I'm so glad you loved Betty in chapter eight. This is obviously a story about being isolated and working back toward friends, so I try to make it count whenever we do get to see more people. :) I actually thought I had called the shot with Russell, so it is interesting to hear that was a surprise (unless people thought that I was throwing in some misdirection, which also sounds like something that would happen... ;). It is adding up; I like the way you think. We're getting closer to collision with every chapter!**

**Thank you also, Living Lucid Dream! And yeah, we needed some nice interactions - a good principal - and some happier times at Riverdale High. It's been so dark there! Good eye for Archie/Veronica complexities continuing, too. Rose is fun; I hope you enjoy Russell's arc also. He's got stuff coming, and I'm not sure how things are going to go for him, but I am glad it's interesting! And, as the song goes, you can't keep a good dog down. ;) Hopefully that will continue, because I think we all love Trig!**

**Enjoy!**

**-Button**

**00000**

Finals actually came. And went.

Jughead had begun joking about being one of the Beatles, hurrying in and out of creative entrances and exits at school, wearing Brand's sunglasses in case a photographer did spot him and got a telephoto lens lined up in time, and once - memorably - he even broke out his own camera to take photos of the formidable crowd of photographers that had taken up stalking Riverdale High's perimeter as the publicity for his 'breaking the silence' television interview continued picking up momentum.

A lot of momentum.

Brand had really enjoyed those photos, and promised to use at least one for their interview. Which was right around the corner now.

Jughead's hair was cut back to where it had been the previous fall, and Brand had deemed his tan lines 'acceptable.' They argued about how to comb his hair, and FP seemed to think their exchanges about that were hilarious.

At least he _had_... right up until Brand had physically taken a comb to Jughead to show him what he meant. That had inspired some actual intervention. Or maybe the intervention had been because Brand had put Jughead into a headlock first and then tried to comb his hair for him while he tried every escape he knew - unfortunately all escapes he'd been taught by his godfather, so he never did get free - and not all of those escape attempts had been gentle on the furniture.

There had been some yelling that night.

Their tradition of ice cream after any major altercation between the adults had the extra job of soothing Jughead's throat, since FP's intervention had startled Brand into accidentally hurting him.

And because 'scream like hell' apparently did not apply when a hold around his throat became scary tight and his attacker was too distracted by his _dad_ to notice that his struggling had changed from trying to escape to trying to get his attention - because Jughead was blacking out. Yelling under pressure could cause problems for vocal cords. Which seemed like a really unfair lecture when the whole thing had been Brand's fault - and his dad's.

However, since training had resumed - under his dad's watchful eye, and with Brand's new motivation not to create any marks that could be picked up by a camera - that whole headlock thing really shouldn't have been too much of an issue.

Except it turned out that impromptu training outside of the 'official, stated training times' (a phrase that made both Jughead and Brand smirk whenever FP used it) really bothered his dad.

So Jughead and Brand saved sneak attack training for the hours between school and dinner, when FP was at work. Which made it a lot more predictable, and Jughead now worried more about not being well trained than he did about suffering injury from Brand's attacks. But they had to take what they could get.

There was not a lot of time left.

They all needed to pack over the next two days. Then they'd catch a flight and spend two full days in New York City. Only one day was reserved for all things 'interview,' so the second day would involve some exploration of the city. Jughead couldn't wait, though he knew that his dad and Brand were not looking forward to all three being in one hotel room for three nights.

Even when Jughead had looked up the room service menu online and informed them that the hotel had ice cream, they had not been nearly as amused as he'd hoped.

But really, the only bad things at this point were largely unchanged: Trigger was still missing, and the notes kept arriving. One note even congratulated Jughead on completing his finals, though he would not hear about his grades until after the interview was over. That note had made Brand thoughtful, which was not a good sign.

FP had seemed to take it in stride when they passed it around the dinner table and discussed theories yet again, but that night he sat up late in Jughead's room, talking about his writing. It was high time that Jughead started a new project, but they knew it was about more than just that when it was well past Midnight and they were still discussing whether a pen name might be the best way for him to go forward with any writing - in the student newspaper and, eventually, professionally.

"You'd want something relatively generic, but not something that's obviously a pen name," FP mused. "I'm just not sure we can trust a student publication to keep a lock on it. Maybe Mary can look into it for us. Although we _have_ been leaning on her an awful lot." FP trailed off. He seemed to have switched over to talking to himself at some point, but he looked over at Jughead again when he continued: "This is important, though; we'll find some room in the budget."

Jughead was sprawled on his bed, and they'd taken up their usual positions for these chats. FP was sitting on the edge of the bed and rested a hand on his knee. He seemed to gather information that way - probably when Jughead's muscles tensed, and maybe even when his pulse sped up - and he gave information in return when his hand tightened, relaxed, or tapped for emphasis.

It was becoming their code, and Jughead liked that he could read it. Honestly, he was grateful for anything that made sense - was comprehensible - to him right now.

And Jughead deeply appreciated that his dad was helping him find a path back to his writing instead of adopting the easier strategy of banning it.

"Are you _sure_ we aren't going to go broke trying to sue everyone we know?" Jughead had tried to put his foot down and veto any lawsuit involving Alice and the article, but Brand had told him in no uncertain terms that he was a minor and so did not get a vote.

When Mrs. Andrews and his dad had not even attempted to soften Brand's (colorful) rant, and instead looked silently - pityingly, he imagined - at Jughead, in complete solidarity with his godfather, he had tried a new strategy: raising the possibility that they'd run out of money to sue people, and arguing that they should choose their battles more carefully.

"Let me worry about that, huh?" FP squeezed his knee. "That's my job; we've got good support for legal expenses, and the state's taken on most of the Toronto work. We'll be fine. You've got plenty to think about without trying to figure out our finances."

That was true. And Jughead knew that everything was about to change again. After the interview, FP and Jughead would get on a plane back to Riverdale. Brand would board a different plane and go to Toronto.

There were pros: he would finally have more time with Betty. Archie would be allowed over. Summer would really begin.

There were cons, too: Jughead was getting scared that once Brand left, something would happen. Maybe the letter-writer was just waiting for his godfather to leave, and for FP to go to work. Jughead would be alone during much of the summer.

The fact that he was experiencing that level of paranoia scared him all on its own, but the previous night Jughead had tried to console himself: it wasn't really paranoia when the threatening notes were real, right? When his dog had been taken from their locked home?

When that line of reasoning had debunked 'paranoia,' but had not made him feel any better, Jughead had gotten out of bed and woken his dad up to ask if they could get another dog.

The answer had been 'maybe after the interview.' So Jughead was currently researching the world's deadliest breeds. Trigger had left a pretty big emotional support vest to fill.

"Did you ever know anyone who had a Doberman?" Jughead asked, changing the subject to something that he _was_ in charge of thinking about.

"Oh, boy," FP rubbed his hand over Jughead's kneecap once, which he'd come to recognize as another signal: this was going to be a good story. "It's not so bad if you raise one from a puppy, but if we get a rescue, you should know beforehand what your old man's going to be thinking the whole time..."

Jughead leaned his head back with a smile, but then he shifted up higher against his headboard so that he would not start to doze. It was ridiculously late, but it was entirely possible that someone was watching them even now and composing the next note. The writer seemed to have that level of knowledge of their doings.

And so he would not turn down the company, the lights staying on, and one more tale from his father's wild and crazy youth.

**00000**

Russell got home that night after a long day spent catching up on work after his absence - 'vacation' - spent in Riverdale, and he was not looking forward to seeing the state of his apartment.

Because the dog simply would not be crated.

It was also chipped, which was going to be a mess very shortly.

When Russell walked into his kitchen, though, it was clean. Quiet. He was immediately suspicious, and for one sickening moment he wondered if the dog was gone.

Because it had become obvious that the article had changed everything; it had demolished his plan right down to the studs, and losing the animal now, in this city, would be profoundly unwise. It would raise questions and create both a timeline and a trail of sorts.

Given the intense separation anxiety of the dog and how conspicuous that made it in an apartment building which did not allow pets, the situation needed to be contained. Shut down. Tonight.

If the dog had been confiscated by a concerned tenant, or by his landlord for that matter, things might already be falling apart.

There was a thump in the bathroom, though, and Russell barely had time to worry about the state of things in _there_ before he saw that the dog was thoroughly occupied with... a tennis ball.

It was a nice tennis ball. Russell liked to play, and quality made a difference. But it was still just a tennis ball. If that could have spared his front door and baseboards round after round of clawing and chewing, he'd willingly have thrown a hundred tennis balls to the vicious devil before now.

Maybe the kid had trained him with a tennis ball. Who knew. It did not particularly matter at this point, but it did mean that Russell could take his time and eat some dinner before doing what he needed to do: get rid of the suddenly famous German Shepherd, whose photo (and associated reward) had gone viral. And do it in such a way that there would be no reason - no way - to identify it later. Which would take work.

Russell sighed wearily.

You'd really think that having a conversation would be easier. He just wanted one lousy interview with Jones. Sure, it needed to be on Russell's turf, with nobody else present, meticulously recorded and then verified from start to finish, and any chance of success likely depended upon the dual carrot/stick of the 'found' dog that _could_ go home with Jones… but which begged at every turn to be euthanized.

All the same, it was still just a conversation. That was all he'd been looking for.

Russell would have taken any opening. He'd been willing to try it all, and now there were abruptly no openings to be had. Davies was no longer the only one stalking Jones' every move, since every photographer looking to make a buck had realized that the scarcity of pictures of the kid and the rabid interest of the public in the underage 'secret agent' hero made this a minor holy grail.

See also: the 'missing dog' poster going viral merely because Jones was also in the photo.

A midnight visit to an unsecured window - and oh, that kid left it tantalizingly wide open, night after night - would not just be visible to anyone sitting in a rental car, guarding the place. There might be telephoto lenses anywhere - everywhere - and so it was now, at last, officially game over.

Which meant that the dog needed to go before anyone got a good look at it. It wasn't a uniquely identifiable German Shepherd, but its markings were darker and more distinct than average which gave it a particular 'expression.' It would be out of context with Russell, particularly in this apartment building. It would be memorable.

The chip needed to go somewhere else. This job might even require dismemberment, and Russell would need several disposal sites to really do this up right. If ever there was a time for paranoia, best practices, and a bottle of bleach, this was it.

Russell dumped some dog food into the cereal bowl he'd put out for the animal, pulled leftover pizza out of the fridge, and sat down at the table. The Shepherd usually didn't bother him if he was eating at the table, a strange gap in its terrible behavior, and Russell relaxed for a few moments. He pulled his laptop over and absently skimmed files as he thought through the strange case of Jones/Jonas for what might be the final time.

This was getting far too dangerous. Career-endingly so. He needed to be done.

Russell found himself looking at files on people who had been interviewed by Marcus Donn during the debriefing. None of them had turned up anything promising, but he knew that a few were criminal contacts who had been in Riverdale while Davies was undercover there. Or whatever it was he'd actually been doing.

As he skimmed the notes from dead-end interviews, Russell suddenly wondered if there was another way of feeding the dog back into the ecosystem. He could spare himself a messy, complicated disposal job, and in so doing perhaps also reduce Davies' paranoia - a trait which he'd learned was fast becoming legend among the FBI. The agents who had been discussing this were not the least paranoid people he'd met, either, so that was saying something.

The hushed stories, however likely they were to be exaggerated, were enough to make Russell nervous. He'd already been in the guy's sights once before, and the dog's disappearance had obviously not gone unnoticed; Russell might well become public enemy number one if Davies ever put this all together and successfully pinned it on him, and by all accounts the man _did not quit_.

If the dog reappeared, though, that might just ratchet down whatever was stirring up the Jones household. All's well that ends well, as the kid would no doubt say.

Russell took a bite of pizza as he tried to picture what returning the Shepherd to Riverdale would entail, since he could not go there again in person at the moment. It was worth considering. A lot of the names on the list belonged to people who would not ask questions, and who would be hungry for the reward offered for the missing dog.

The handoff could be quick and easy - and anonymous. Just as he'd originally planned, the dog would be 'found,' and while Russell would not get the credit - the goodwill and the leverage, or that conversation he'd been so desperate to have - at least his commandeering of the pet would be effectively undone.

And there would be no blood in his carpet.

The most detailed profile and set of contact information was for a man named Roy. He sounded like a low-level criminal, and his association with Davies had been straightforward; it was promising. Russell would look into it further, and perhaps he could take a day, maybe even a few days so that they were past that insane interview, and see what happened next. Because something seemed always to 'happen next' when it came to Davies and Jones.

And this tennis ball discovery was clearly pay dirt. It might just tide him over and give him a few more options.

**00000**

Brand was sitting in his car again, a few houses away from the Joneses' place. The lights had finally turned off, which was nice to see. Brand had been encouraged by a lot of what he saw developing between the kid and FP, not to mention their larger support network in Riverdale, but he continued to worry about how those two would manage once he was back in Toronto and they were left to their own devices.

Which reminded Brand of the proposition he'd been working to persuade FP about, with very little success so far. Everything that had happened with Trigger raised a very real question for Brand about whether Jones could effectively recall his training if something he cared about was threatened.

The obvious opening was the dog, particularly if someone had it and was waiting to use it - or just the promise of the monster, since Brand honestly couldn't imagine anyone keeping that dog alive for this long just to lure the kid into a trap - and it seemed to Brand that Jones would willingly walk into almost any situation for Trigger.

That was a scary thought.

And so, for a training exercise, Brand thought that roughing up FP might be a good simulation. They could surprise the kid, see if his instincts went out the window or not, and go from there.

FP was surprisingly resistant to this idea. He'd even had some choice words about it, though he seemed to understand the logic, and Brand didn't even think that he was too worried about inevitably having his butt handed to him. There was something about pulling that on Jones that FP found problematic, and he just didn't appear to understand that the alternative was a significant risk to the kid's safety - and perhaps survival.

Brand intended to keep working on FP. They had a couple more days to stage that and see what they could learn - and what they could teach Jones.

Who had sounded like a chain smoker after the headlock debacle, before they'd finally gotten him to just _stop talking_ and rest his vocal cords.

You couldn't come up with this stuff. Jones threw himself wholeheartedly into the most self-destructive activities imaginable at almost every turn.

It was still a little bit cute. Especially when he was running around in Brand's sunglasses and stalking the paparazzi with a camera of his own. Brand had gotten a fairly dramatic photo of him doing that, and he'd be surprising Jones with that gem during their interview.

But it was mostly scary. Because Brand was leaving in just a few days.

It was almost enough to make him seriously consider Rose's idea of getting the kid a puppy. Only he'd be more inclined to get him a fully trained police dog. Maybe a matched pair, in case he lost one again.

Because those notes were bad news. Brand would have suspected it was tied to Rose at this point, especially considering the way all leads had died a quick and emphatic death. Or the way in which the intel was accurate and detailed. But Rose could not be more thrilled with Jones, so that didn't make any sense.

The Carters lacked finesse. They simply could not pull something like this off. They were also buried under the threat of Mary Andrews' lawsuit - another person Brand had warmed to, even though she looked at him as though he was deeply disappointing her whenever he opened his mouth - and since the Carters did not know that Jones was begging everyone to hold off on suing, a factor that would ultimately carry the day (not that they were telling Jones that) if they proved unable to get the kid to listen to reason on the subject, that would likely keep them more than occupied for the foreseeable future.

Before Brand could think through any more possibilities, a dog's bark started up in the neighborhood. It was not dissimilar to Trigger's, and he sighed. Jones was probably hearing it too, especially since he'd started sleeping with his windows open and just screened - something Brand would be speaking to him about, once he was actually leaving - and that might be enough to keep him awake.

And then Brand caught a flash of movement at the kid's window.

Jones was awake all right.

And dressed.

Brand slipped out of his vehicle, taking a moment to marvel that they'd gone this long without him having to give away that he'd been watching the house. He hadn't been sure that would last a night, let alone more than a week.

Moving silently on an intercept course, Brand tried to figure out where the kid was heading. It wasn't toward the Coopers' place or the Andrews' place, and it was actually looking quite possible - stupid, stupid - that he was investigating the barking. Which was intermittent, but seemed just regular enough for a dangerous game of Marco Polo.

"You're not even wearing shoes." Brand spoke while he clamped a hand over Jones' mouth, wrapped his other arm over the kid's arms, and lifted him right off of his feet. It would not do to wake the neighbors.

Jones probably recognized him, but he still did a respectable job of fighting back and screaming for help as Brand hauled him toward his own front door. He first tried a couple of escapes, but quickly gave up on that when it became clear that Brand was way ahead of him - and instead he just tried to make himself difficult to manage.

Brand was impressed by the force behind one of the kid's kicks when it made contact. If he'd been wearing anything more than socks on his feet - or if he was practiced in fighting without shoes - it might even have done some damage. FP's construction work meant a no-shoes policy in the house was practical, but Brand suddenly wondered if it had been in any way a strategy to force Jones to make his way through the house - to the living room - if he ever decided to sneak out. FP was crafty like that. Granted, it hadn't stopped the kid, but that was only because he had (obviously) lost his mind.

"Okay, enough. I'm going to knock, and your dad has already said that he doesn't like it when it looks like I'm holding you hostage to get him to do things. I'm pretty sure this would qualify."

The kid settled down in his arms after one last muffled complaint.

Unfortunately the door flew open before Brand had a chance to let go of him.

"_What now_?" FP gestured at the two of them and Brand quickly dropped Jones onto his feet and took a step away from him. "More training? Another 'game'? Do you have _any_ idea what time it is?"

Jones had sworn up and down that he had not told his father about their escape game, but somehow FP seemed to sense that things along those lines had gone on at some point.

"He was sneaking out."

The kid's face went even redder than it already was from the exertion of fighting to get free.

"There was a dog barking, and I'm pretty sure he was heading out alone, in socks, to negotiate for its release."

FP paled. "Get in the house. Stay in the house." He grabbed Jones by the scruff of the neck and pulled him into a quick, possessive hug that was definitely more to reassure himself than the kid, and then he pushed Jones past him into the living room. "You just happened to be in the neighborhood?"

"Yep." Brand didn't need to elaborate; from his tone, it was obvious that FP had already figured out that he was staking out the place and sleeping in his car.

"Tomorrow." FP gave him a meaningful look. "We're on for tomorrow."

Finally. FP was seeing the problem clearly at last.

Brand nodded, and then he returned to his car.

The lights in the house did not go out for some time.

**00000**

FP was furious.

And he knew it was not entirely because of what had just transpired: it was because Brandon was leaving, and he was increasingly afraid that he would not be able to protect his own son without a bona fide kidnapper keeping their house under surveillance every night.

Less than subtly.

The whole situation made him angry, and in particular he was incensed by the fact that there was no good alternative. Brandon had to leave, and FP honestly did not want this arrangement extending much further into the summer - yet there was no end in sight to the notes, let alone a resolution to whatever had spooked Brandon so dramatically about Alice's article.

At least the article itself had stopped worrying Brandon. FP had not missed that there were two stages to the man's relief, though: first, it suddenly and unexpectedly became clear that the article was going to be good for Jughead's public image - and second, quite apart from anything to do with the media response, it had turned out to be _not a bad thing_ for Jughead.

That latter part remained murky at best to FP, but Brandon had conveyed it clearly enough: somehow, with someone, it could have gone either way - regardless of how it played in the press - but it had indeed gone the way they wanted it to. They'd somehow kicked the problem a little further down the road, at least for the time being.

FP appreciated the reassurance, even though he hated what that little detail meant for Jughead. It was possible he could tread on the danger - or be thrust into it by Alice, in this case - and it was also possible that doing the best they could by Jughead in terms of the media might not always mean doing the best they could in relation to this unknown threat.

And now the dog situation was looking unmanageable.

FP was officially worried enough that he'd just agreed to let Brandon set Jughead up, scare him thoroughly with the visual of his own father being attacked in their home by someone he trusted to protect him, all because it was suddenly painfully obvious: Jughead was not capable of keeping his head when something he cared about was threatened.

As long as there was any possibility that someone might use Trigger against him, they needed to nip that in the bud.

Jughead had curled in on himself on the couch, still breathing a little too hard from whatever Brandon had done to him outside - and FP knew he was more than a little shaken up when he found himself hoping that Brandon had given his son a good scare - and the teen was hiding his face from his father. Brandon had been right about that too, though; it was a lot harder for him to manage now that his hair was cut shorter.

There were a lot of ways that he could go about this conversation. FP weighed them for a couple of minutes, letting Jughead get good and nervous.

And then he lowered himself onto the couch with a heavy sigh.

"Please don't do this to me, Jug."

Scared eyes met his.

"The way I see it, all I can really do is beg you not to leave me alone again. I can set up a cot in your room, but eventually - one day - I'll fall too deeply asleep. You'll be gone, and maybe that time I'll have no way of getting you back."

Jughead put one hand over his eyes and rubbed the back of his neck with the other. FP had seen Brandon do that when he was agitated and thinking something through.

The silence lengthened.

And finally… "Brand always came for me."

"He's going back to Canada. You can't knowingly run into danger to keep him here." FP was thoroughly horrified by the thought that maybe _that_ was inspiring this behavior. Talk about a bad incentive structure.

"No. I mean… Brand always came for me. It's what you do when you're… responsible. Dad, you did the same thing. You tried to find me every day when I was in Toronto."

Oh.

"Jughead, you and Trigger are not the same thing." The parallels had already occurred to FP, at least in part, but hearing it so plainly - in Jughead's voice - suddenly explained a whole lot in an instant.

"Brandon did not rescue you from an abusive situation-" FP realized even as he said it that any alternative hostage-taker hired by Blossom would probably meet the definition and then some, a terrifying thought, but hopefully Jughead would not think too deeply about that "-and if he died trying to help you, that would be okay. It would be the right thing for him to do... as long as there were reasonable odds that he'd be successful."

To be honest, FP didn't care about that last part one bit when it came to Brandon and his son, but he also didn't need Jughead playing fast and loose with his own safety some day when circumstances involved an actual human and running any amount of personal risk might well be for nothing.

FP took a deep breath, and hoped he could really make Jughead hear this next part. "If you die for a dog, it will be a _terrible_ trade. Trigger's a great dog-" okay, it would not help to oversell this "-or at least he's great with you. But he's still a dog. You're worth _so_ much more."

All of a sudden it was distractingly clear why Brandon's plan to stage an attack on FP was a bad idea: this was the conversation they'd needed to have. Attacking a member of Jughead's family and then having him apply those lessons to Trigger was not just the wrong message. It was the heart of the problem.

"I need to make a phone call."

"Right now?" Jughead had been listening thoughtfully, and clearly marshaling his objections to FP's speech, but now he was confused. And curious.

FP checked the time. "Well… it can wait until morning, I guess."

"Oka-ay," Jughead started to unfold himself from his tightly wound posture on the couch. "So… I should stop caring? And pay attention to the _odds_ when I make decisions?"

Jughead's tone was disdainful, but he was actually talking better sense now than he had been.

"You aren't going to stop caring; don't play dumb, boy," FP leveled a look at him. "But yes, it will hurt less over time. And I'm really not sure why you ever thought it was a good idea to ignore the odds when you're making decisions."

That stopped Jughead. And then it didn't.

"Uh, dad," Jughead was eyeing him like he was crazy now. "Have you been paying any attention at all? I've had to ignore the odds for ages. Because they _never_ say what I want them to say." Jughead's voice cracked on his last sentence.

FP tried not to react as he moved closer to his son on the couch. He put an arm around him, in part so he could break their suddenly overwhelming eye contact without withdrawing from Jughead.

"Well... we're just going to have to start evening them up then. That way you can start looking at the odds again, and actually paying attention to them. If they don't look good, we'll change our approach. Find a different way of getting at the problem." FP squeezed Jughead's shoulder reassuringly.

"You always have options, Jug. But not if you're gone and I can't find you. Then you've given yourself only one option, and the worst possible odds." FP's voice was strained now.

Jughead slowly nodded against his shoulder.

"Please don't do that to me." FP turned further toward Jughead and leaned his forehead against the side of his son's head.

"Okay, dad. I won't." Jughead's voice was small.

FP breathed a sigh of relief.

**00000**

**I hope you enjoyed! We've got traction on pretty much all the players now; next chapter should be fun. Thanks in advance for taking the time to leave a review! They are such an encouragement (so much encouragement!), and I'll be working hard over here. :)**

**I hope you have a great start to the week!**

**-Button**


	10. Chapter 10

**Chapter ten? Wow - and yay! This is a great break from life/relief of stress, and I've been surprised that it has not been too tough to keep my schedule basically managed through August. I blame your notes and encouraging reviews. :) Thanks for letting me know that you're reading!**

**Thank you for the review, Skyrider45. I'm glad the foreshadowing was there (and it's nice to know that didn't blow the plot!). I am excited about Roy being back, too. Bets = off! :) I'm also glad that FP and Jughead's progress is still clearly present, even when things aren't going well for them in the moment. They're getting there, and it's fun to write that. :)**

**Thank you for the encouraging review, Living Lucid Dream! Good call about wondering whether Brand can be believed. He's kind of the opposite of FP there - Brand's not always great at reading people in those moments when FP is (we'd trust that information coming from FP, I think), and vice versa. I loved that most of your response was focused on Russell being creepy. He's hitting some sketchy notes! Brand and Roy left things in an okay place - but a lot has happened, so I agree that might not go smoothly. I guess we'll see what happens! Oh, and good instincts re: your feelings. As usual. ;)**

**Thank you for your kind review, Guest! I'm glad you enjoyed Betty and Reggie. :) And yes - not all FBI being bad is a nice surprise. It was sounding dire for a bit there. The Russell reveal has caught a few folks by surprise, and I'll have to reread at some point and think about that... I hope you like this chapter also!**

**Enjoy!**

**-Button**

**00000**

It didn't register with FP that he'd never gotten a response text from Brandon - until it was too late.

The glass bowl that Mary Andrews had given them to hold fruit was shattered all over the floor, where Jughead was scrambling for leverage in his socks.

Jughead was shouting at Brandon, asking over and over again 'what happened?' as if there could be a logical explanation for his godfather attacking his father and he could somehow mediate this if he only had more information.

Either his intuition was good, or his instincts were terrible.

FP could see that Brandon had a point about this training exercise now that they were in the middle of it - and he could _also _see that everything _he'd _been worried about was a thousand times worse. This was horrifically cruel, and FP's only goal at this point was to call the whole thing off.

Brandon was successfully fending off Jughead's attempts at getting between them, and still had FP in a seemingly unbreakable hold that was so painful that Brandon's vicious wrenching of his shoulder kept him from speaking intelligibly - somehow explaining - even while allowing Brandon to go after his knees - which he actually _needed_ in order to remain employed, thank you very much. FP managed to throw an elbow, but Brandon dodged it easily. This was maddening.

Jughead was increasingly frantic. Brandon wasn't talking. FP couldn't get much out past his cries of pain; Brandon was timing his movements very intentionally to prevent him from communicating.

FP was suddenly forced facedown over the kitchen island and he yelped as his shoulder was yanked yet again. There was a flash in his peripheral vision that could have been a knife - and he had time to wonder if Brandon had decided to go for broke and get custody of Jughead back the one way it could actually happen: over his dead body.

And then Jughead stopped fighting.

"Brand- _Brand_-," Jughead took a quick step back from his efforts to wrestle Brandon off of FP, and instead he tried to get his godfather's attention - and suddenly tears were streaming down his face. "Just put me in a time-out. My dad will stop - we both will - just please, put me in a time-out instead. You're hurting him. _Please_, Brand."

Brand released FP, but not before giving him an angry shove that thoroughly knocked the wind out of him against the kitchen island.

"_Really_?"

Jughead nodded quickly, desperately. His breathing was picking up speed even though he'd stopped fighting, and FP realized that they were about to see one of his increasingly rare panic attacks if they didn't do something fast to de-escalate the situation. Not that he had any ability to speak in his current condition. "I won't fight you. I'll just- I'll behave."

FP's lungs were refusing to accept air. Brandon was not making a move toward Jughead, but it was clear from his expression that something was very wrong. And yes, that was a hunting knife in his hand. This whole thing was turning out to be a lot more theatrical - and painful - than FP had been led to expect.

"You could have broken that up, kid." Brand's tone had turned horrified. "You know, I was actually worried there might be dead bodies in the kitchen if we tried this. I gave you at least five or six openings that you've been able to get into all week in training. What are you _doing_?"

Jughead looked from Brandon to FP and back again. His breath suddenly caught, and then adrenaline - or anger - must have taken over because he no longer appeared to be on the verge of a panic attack.

"Wait. You were-,"

"Oh, no, don't you dare try and change the subject." Brandon reached over to slap FP on the back, as if in congratulations, and his tone suddenly became darkly humorous. "You are _never_ gonna guess what your son just asked me to do."

FP was starting to be able to gasp for breath as his chest loosened slightly, but even with more oxygen he had no clue. His memory was jogged - Jughead had responded very poorly to a suggestion that they take a 'time-out' when they'd had the dramatic disaster of an interrogation over Alice Carter - but that was as much as he could piece together.

"The kid just offered himself as a willing hostage if I'd stop beating the crap out of you." Brandon's eyes were narrowed.

"_You have code for that_?" FP managed enough air to get that out. He wasn't sure why that surprised him. Nothing should surprise him any longer when it came to Brandon.

"This is a disaster. I'm not sure we can deal with this in two days." Brandon seemed to already be calculating, weighing, planning.

FP glared at him and finally managed to move away from the support of the kitchen island. He made his way over to Jughead, who was looking at him with betrayal written all over his face.

"This was the call that I needed to make last night," FP explained apologetically, still trying to catch his breath. "Brandon apparently didn't get the message."

Jughead sucker punched him.

FP could tell it wasn't meant to do actual damage, but it _hurt_ and he doubled over with a surprised grunt.

"Hey! Calm down!" Brandon came over to defend FP against Jughead.

This was beyond messed up.

"The fight is over, Jones. Your dad didn't come up with this, and he refused to do it for a long while." Jughead looked up at that admission. "And you know what? If I had trusted even a little bit that you were able to handle this, I'd have called it off. But you didn't just fall apart - you gave up."

Brandon grabbed Jughead by the chin now and Jughead furiously wiped away his own tears when he saw Brand's hand come up to do it for him. "I don't _ever_ want to see you do something like that again, killer. You hear me? Now… apologize to your father for trying to take a fight - it was two against one, kid, my god - and escalate it into a hostage situation."

They were way past rabbit hole territory.

FP felt a little better when Jughead responded by landing a sucker punch into Brand's side and then moving back and into a ready stance.

"That's better." Brandon actually seemed somewhat mollified too, even though he was now slightly bent over and had a hand painfully gripping his side where Jughead had just hit him. "I'm going to grab your dad again, and this time I want you to really come at me."

"Wait, what? Brando- _let go of_-," FP broke off into a howl of agony as Brandon forced his arm way too far in a direction it did not want to go and twisted his fingers even further.

He _really_ needed to learn how to break a submission hold more effectively.

Brandon waited for FP to quiet into painful panting after the initial shock and then leaned in to speak too closely to his ear. "You've got dangerous instincts, FP. Not enough ability to maneuver in this position, but you've got the right idea. Don't worry too much for today, though, huh?" Now there was a smile in his voice as he applied a little more pressure to FP's fingers and elicited another groan of pain. "Jones is going to rescue you."

This time when Jughead came slamming into them, it was true: Brandon lost a good portion of his grip and was forced to turn his attention away from his brutal hold on FP. Who finally landed an elbow.

"_Geez_! Once I let go of you, you're done!" Brandon seemed generally to dislike raising his voice, but he was definitely yelling at FP this time. "No more of that."

FP felt a ridiculous urge to ask him 'or what?' He was gasping for air again, though - this time in response to the wave of pain that had come when he'd been released - so he decided to save his breath to demand that Brandon clean up the broken glass they were all standing on.

Jughead was moving away, shaking his shoulders to loosen them and getting out of Brandon's reach.

Which would have been a good idea had FP thought of it in time.

Brandon had his back bent painfully over the kitchen island in moments, his neck turned so far to the left that his spine was protesting even the small movements that breathing required - and in that position FP couldn't see what was going on.

"Jones. Again."

**00000**

"I hate you both." Jughead was lying on the living room floor.

"You do not get to hate anyone," FP had taken the couch. "I am officially the only one allowed to be upset right now. I'm pretty sure that human shields aren't actually supposed to take that kind of abuse."

"Why not?" Jughead sounded sincerely confused. "The word 'shield' is right in the name, dad. Did Brand make it sound exciting or something? You should know by now that he lies a lot."

"Should we order take-out for lunch? I don't think I can move," Brand had joined Jughead on the floor.

"Did you do this all the time in Toronto?" FP groaned. "How did you manage to not be one massive bruise?"

Jughead snorted. "I didn't."

"Kid-," Brand's tone held a warning.

"Sorry, Brand." Jughead didn't sound sorry at all. "I had an appropriate number of bruises at appropriate intervals, dad."

"Uh-huh." FP sighed. "Still got a stash of muscle relaxers, Brandon?"

"Dad!"

"Kidding. Mostly." FP slowly and painfully sat up.

"How long were you guys planning this?" Jughead remained lying on the floor but crossed his arms over his chest.

"Oh, we weren't planning _this_," FP said vehemently. "Brandon wanted to stage a fight to see if your training instincts failed, because you've been so irrational about Trigger. Precious little of what you two did today was in the plan."

Brand laughed. "Sorry, FP. That's actually true, kid. I don't think the term 'human shield' was one we ever discussed. He's got a talent, though, huh? He just really likes getting that last hit in when we're trying to reset for another bout."

"I think he was trying to escape," Jughead started to snicker. "Hard to tell, though."

FP raised an eyebrow at them.

"I was a lot worse for ages," Jughead offered. As if that was helpful information in the slightest. "Can you show me what you did against the corner of the counter?"

FP had gotten a few good shots in. "Yeah. Sure. When I can move again."

"You shouldn't be learning from too many different people, kid," Brand countermanded. "I'll show you how to do that. I'm also going to teach your dad how to actually get out of a submission hold or two. Before he embarrasses us in public."

Jughead snickered again, and then his laugh began to pick up steam. Soon he was laughing so hard that he had to wipe away tears.

"It is not that funny." FP sighed again.

"Yeah. It's _hilarious_," Jughead threw his dad's words back at him and continued to laugh. He sat up and looked over at the scattered shards of glass all over the floor and it made him laugh even harder.

Brand started to laugh with him.

By the time FP gave in and began laughing as well, the ridiculous scene in the room finally getting to him, Jughead had somehow managed to stand all the way up and started pulling out ice cream. That made FP laugh harder and have to join the other two in wiping away tears.

"I think we could take him if we started in a better position." Jughead was apparently a lot less sore than FP. "What do you think, dad?"

"I think we're never trying this again," FP shook his head, still chuckling.

"We'll see how you both feel tomorrow," Brand grinned and got up from the floor. A shower of glass shards fell from his back as he did so. "But hey, nobody's going to look bad on camera. I'm not sure how we pulled that off."

Jughead and FP stopped and looked at each other in surprise. There wasn't a mark on anyone's face.

"Wow. We're, like, professionals," Jughead's tone was impressed.

Brandon and FP exchanged a look at that, and they started laughing all over again.

**00000**

The Andrews family would be coming along for the interview. They dropped by the house that evening to share the news: Mary had already been planning to go along, but Fred had been able to clear his schedule and that meant Archie could go too.

"Hey, that's great - we can explore the city together." Jughead was delighted. He and Archie headed to his room to make plans. Jughead stopped in his doorway for a moment and looked back at the adults. "Dad, can Archie and I room together? Save some money on ice cream?"

FP frowned at how bold Jughead was being in front of the Andrews family and waved him into his room. "We can talk about it later. Probably not."

"Oh, let them," Mary Andrews was smiling indulgently. "They haven't had a lot of time together over the past few weeks."

Brand and FP exchanged a look.

"Hey, if you two need separate rooms the moment you don't have Jughead to referee..." Fred's tone was teasing, but he continued to be concerned by the constant tension they'd been subjecting Jughead to for weeks now.

"We'll work it out," FP said decisively. Fred had a point. "They can room together. You know, we'll have a full day to explore the city. Any thoughts on how to spend it? The boys will have us booked solid if we don't come up with some ideas of our own."

The four adults relaxed in the living room and discussed the trip enthusiastically. The evening went late, and they eventually realized that the boys had slipped past them to the basement and were watching a movie.

"Once it's over we'll go. I can't believe we didn't see them go past," Mary was shaking her head, but she was amused. "Oh goodness, there's a piece of glass on the floor over here. Did that bowl shatter on you? It was old, but I really didn't think there was anything wrong with it."

"Uh-," FP caught Brand's eye and they both grinned, stifling a return of their laughter from earlier. "Yeah. It was a little dramatic, but nobody got hurt."

"I'm not sure it was anything wrong with the bowl per se," Brand offered, mirth coming through in his tone, and FP couldn't quite stifle a laugh before they both schooled their expressions and changed the subject.

Fred and Mary looked from one to the other.

As they drove home that night, Fred confirmed that Archie was absorbed in texting Veronica before he turned to Mary to quietly bring up the new dynamic they'd noticed. "So... FP and Brandon seem to be getting along all of a sudden."

"Ye-eah," Mary's expression was conflicted. "You think it's a good thing?"

"I could not hazard a guess," Fred shrugged. "That whole situation is beyond me."

"New York will be fun, though. And if they're not fighting, that's probably positive."

"I hope so." Fred had to smile as he thought more about it. "But if they get to be good friends, that might turn out to be frightening."

Mary laughed then. "It really would, wouldn't it?"

Archie had stopped texting and was listening to his parents' conversation with a frown.

**00000**

"Are you loving the city?" Betty's enthusiasm was a helpful distraction. Jughead was getting painfully nervous about the interview, and he and Archie had retired to their room to call their girlfriends and then catch up with one another. They'd gotten so caught up with the plans for New York that the two best friends still hadn't talked about much of substance - and Jughead really wanted to ask Archie more about what was going on with him and Veronica. They were under strict orders about lights out, and Mr. Andrews had promised to check on them periodically to make sure they weren't tempted to stay up, so there was limited time.

They'd flown into New York City that afternoon, and so far it had been loud and hot but really exciting. Jughead thought Toronto was prettier, but nowhere near as lively.

"Yeah."

"Is that really all you have to say?" Betty laughed. "I could see you going to college in the city, or maybe living there as a writer for your starving artist years."

"I'd need a roommate to afford a walk-in closet here," Jughead smiled into the phone. "You offering?"

"Huh, let's see," Betty's tone was jocular, "we haven't gone on a date since you got back, but you want to move in together? Sounds very stable. Sign me up."

"Oh yeah, you know us closet types." Jughead waved Archie away when his friend looked up at that phrasing and started throwing balled up pages from a hotel notepad at him from the other bed. "Go talk to your girlfriend, man."

"Is Archie having fun?" Betty laughed, realizing that Archie was likely hassling Jughead.

"Far too much," Jughead smirked and angled himself away from where Archie was drawing a stick figure scene to entertain Veronica and try to keep her from multi-tasking while they FaceTimed. "It's good, though. I've got a ton to remember for tomorrow, but I think I'm officially ready to be off book. Brand says I need to just relax tonight so that I'm fresh for the interview."

"I see," Betty's tone was teasing. "That sounds so calculated. Did you memorize the entire interview?"

"Yes, and I am under strict orders to stay on script. Apparently I'm 'horrifying' when I ad lib."

"I've always thought so," Betty joked. "I'm surprised anyone lets you out of the house without a Cyrano to follow you around."

"My dad won't pay for it out of pocket, and insurance still won't cover it," Jughead shrugged, even though he was not on a video call with Betty. "But my discrimination lawsuit should pay for a few months of rent on that closet as long as we budget carefully."

There was a knock on the door of the hotel room.

"Dude, it's too early to be my dad," Archie waved Jughead back when he got up to investigate. "Don't answer the door."

"What's going on?" Betty hadn't minded that Jughead had not wanted a video chat after his exhausting day. She wished she had a little more information now, though, as Jughead explained that he and Archie were only allowed to have their own room if they took very specific precautions.

For whatever reason, their room was a floor below the adults. While they hadn't ended up being forced to swap rooms around, Jughead would put odds on that not lasting for a second night. He figured Brand wanted them next to his room, and Mr. Andrews had probably vetoed that, but eventually they'd get worried and - well, it wasn't worth worrying about. He and Archie would not be consulted, in any event. He hadn't unpacked his suitcase, just in case.

The knocking continued.

"Archie, can you just answer the door, then?" One of the primary issues was that the live interview had been hyped - over-hyped, really - and anyone with a pulse could figure out that they'd be in a hotel somewhere around here for the weekend. The practice evading photographers at school was paying off, unfortunately, as Jughead was getting pretty good at spotting them and using Brand's training to try and be invisible.

Archie was the easier one to spot, though, and _someone_ was getting in trouble since a photo of him had been leaked to the press in a brief 'roommate' story that didn't have any information beyond the very basics - that were now outdated anyway, since they were not rooming together any longer. It had still circulated a little too far for anyone's liking, though, and any photographer looking for them would most likely just watch for Archie and then look to see if Jughead was with him.

The adults had started talking about splitting them up when they explored the city. Hats and sunglasses. Maybe avoiding some of the more interesting destinations since they'd be too obvious. It was depressing.

"I'm famous now too, man; I'm sorry, but you're just going to have to ignore it."

"Good work. You can open the door now." Brand's voice came through the door.

"Hey, I've got to go." Jughead swiftly exchanged goodbyes with Betty, who wished him luck in the interview and promised to call the next evening.

"Don't open it," Archie said darkly as Jughead set down his phone and moved toward the chained door. He'd hurriedly wrapped up his call with Veronica as well when he'd heard Brandon call through the door.

"It's just Brand."

"You don't know that for sure," Archie's tone was challenging now.

"Yeah. I do." Jughead shot him an impatient look.

"Listen to your friend, kid." Brand's smile was audible through the door. "You should text me before you open the door."

"Okay, fine. It's him." Archie folded his arms. He raised his voice to call through the door. "What do you want, Brandon?"

Someone in the room next door knocked on the wall. They _were_ being pretty loud, come to think of it.

Jughead hit Brand's number in his phone. "You can talk to me this way."

"Yeah, but then I can't look into your eyes." Brand's voice was audible through the door as well as the phone. "Come upstairs and say goodnight to your dad."

"What did you do?" Jughead was suspicious now.

"How did you get to that from-," Archie shook his head. "You know what? I don't even want to know." Archie raised his voice to address Brand again, "He'll go up and say goodnight. Again. But not until my dad comes down; that was the plan, so stop screwing around."

The knocking from the adjoining room sounded more annoyed now.

"What? You have a thing for morse code? I think I know this one!" Archie's voice was loud and irritated as he called through the wall to their neighbor and then aggressively knocked 'shave and a haircut' back.

"Open this door," Brand growled. "What part of 'low profile' don't you two understand?"

Jughead opened the door then and Brand strode in.

"And now we're compromised." Archie threw his hands in the air. "All you gotta do is say you're his godfather and doors just fly open with this guy."

"Hey!" Jughead wasn't entirely sure where all of this was coming from, but it seemed to be about more than just their current trip and Archie's deep dislike of Brand.

"I'll bring FP down here if you won't come upstairs for your own father, but you need to knock it off. Both of you." Brand looked from one to the other.

"I'll come upstairs." Jughead eyed Archie, who still looked like he was spoiling for a fight, and left the room quickly - in part to get Brand away from his friend.

Brand filled him in along the way: earlier that day an inflammatory article had been published that referred to FP as Jughead's 'biological father,' and they needed to have one last strategy meeting about the interview. Brand thought it might be helpful to address the rampant speculations about FP in their interview, and Jughead's dad wanted to be left out of it.

Jughead got to be the tiebreaker vote.

They got to the hotel room that Brand was sharing with FP. Jughead leaned in, and his dad and Mary Andrews looked up expectantly.

"Nope." Jughead turned on his heel and began to leave.

"'Nope' what?" Brand went after Jughead and dropped a hand on his shoulder to stop him.

"Nope, I'm not voting. Just make a decision and I'll read the script like a good little trained monkey."

"Do you need a break from Andrews?" Brand leveled a stare at Jughead. "I'm really not liking the influence right now."

"No. I need a break from _you_," Jughead frowned at his own petulant tone. He was getting increasingly tense as the interview approached, and he could hear himself starting to lose it - but he was having trouble stopping himself while he was so overwhelmed.

"Two days isn't soon enough?" Brand actually looked hurt. That was a new one.

And Jughead was struck silent by how soon that actually was.

FP came out into the hallway. "It's okay, Jug. My press really can't get a whole lot worse; you can go off-script on that if you want. I trust your judgment."

"Aaaand the one-upping begins," Brand sighed dramatically.

"Just don't go off-script on anything else." FP crossed his arms. They'd had more than a few missteps while practicing.

"Got it." Jughead gave his dad a perfunctory hug, ready to escape back to his own room and hopefully wind down enough to fall asleep at a reasonable hour. "Goodnight."

"Go get your hair patted." FP raised an eyebrow and nudged Jughead toward Brand. "I'll walk you back downstairs."

Jughead smirked when Brand shot FP a look. He still ruffled Jughead's hair, though, and then dropped an arm over his shoulders.

"We haven't talked much about staying in touch, but we'll be having that conversation after the interview. I think your dad might be weakening on the radio silence edict." Brand chucked Jughead under the chin.

"Okay," Jughead was relieved to hear that. His dad nodded in confirmation. "That's good."

"I'll still be working on the notes, too," Brand's voice was low now so that Mary wouldn't overhear. She was being awfully patient in their room.

"Thanks," Jughead frowned at the unwelcome reminder. And at the omission of Trigger from the list. Brand seemed to be giving up on him, and Jughead was slowly having to agree that he was probably right: Trig was gone for good. "I'll see you in the morning."

"Thanks for getting him for me, Brand." FP turned to walk Jughead back downstairs.

Jughead was smirking to himself as they entered the stairwell.

"What are you thinking about?" FP eyed him curiously.

"You called him Brand."

"The great Brandon Davies," FP intoned with a short laugh.

"You know... he'd actually like it that you call him that," Jughead said. "Do _not_ tell him, whatever you do."

"Thanks for the intel," FP smiled at him. "It can stay just between us."

"I'm going to talk about you tomorrow. In the interview." Jughead decided he'd better at least warn his dad. "I was actually already planning to."

"Okay," FP shrugged. "I said that's fine. I trust you."

"Okay," Jughead hid a mischievous smile. "Bio dad."

FP grabbed playfully at Jughead, who darted out of reach. They continued lightheartedly jostling and knocking into each other as they walked down the hall toward the hotel room that Jughead was sharing with Archie.

"You'd better hope I don't break out a submission hold," Jughead laughed as his dad used his larger frame to nudge Jughead a little too close to the wall.

"Well, I didn't want to tell you this, but…" FP leaned toward Jughead as if to share a secret when they stopped in front of his room, "I was paying attention to what Brandon was doing. You might just have a fight on your hands if we try anything like that again."

Jughead looked skeptical. "Yeah, okay; I'll believe it when I see it." He considered the idea for a few moments. "We really should find a way to train without Brand, though."

"Maybe. We'll see." FP knocked on the door.

Jughead pulled out his cellphone, but Archie opened the door before he could call him. FP promised that Mr. Andrews would check in later, and then he left them alone in their room.

Archie was still eyeing Jughead a few minutes later, as they brushed their teeth and started getting ready for bed.

Jughead finally decided to just have it out - whatever it was. "What is _up_ with you, Archie? You're looking at me like I'm patient zero in the zombie apocalypse."

"You know that I was there when Brandon beat you up in your room. When he left you tied up in a closet and I thought you died." Archie's tone was even, but he was obviously deeply displeased.

"Seriously? You want to talk about that _tonight_?" Jughead sighed and started changing for bed. He pulled off his shirt and turned away from Archie.

"Jughead?" Archie's tone was suddenly scared. "What happened to you?"

"It's classified," Jughead snapped. "And maybe I don't want to get into it the night before the biggest interview of my life, when I'm supposed to be-," Jughead turned around and realized that was no longer what Archie was talking about. He was staring at Jughead's body in horror. "Oh... Crap. Yeah, uh-,"

"Does your dad know?" Archie stood up and walked over to Jughead, his shocked expression shifting back toward anger.

"He probably _did_ some of it," Jughead looked down at the many bruises on his shoulders and torso. Some were from training, but pretty much all of the dramatic ones were from the 'human shield' session that Brand had sprung on him. "It's fine."

Archie's eyes were like saucers now. "FP did this to you too?"

"Um, yeah, but-," Jughead was suddenly realizing he'd said too much and might not be able to explain adequately - or backpedal quickly enough out of this one. "Archie… If I say it was training, are you just going to say I'm lying to protect Brand? And my dad?"

Archie was surprised by his direct approach, but nodded to acknowledge that was about the size of it. "Yeah. And I'd be right. This is not normal, Jug."

It was time to talk.

"You want to hear some stuff?" Jughead pulled on a T-shirt and climbed into his bed.

"Uh, yeah. Obviously. I've been waiting for months to 'hear some stuff,'" Archie folded his arms and sat down on his own bed. "But only if you're, like, explaining. Not trying to distract me from the fact that they've been hurting you."

"What you saw in the trailer was bad," Jughead sighed. "These bruises are different. I'm going to tell you what happened first, and then you can tell me what you saw. That way you'll know I'm not gaming you. Deal?"

"Deal." Archie climbed into bed and they both reached to turn out their bedside lights.

Conversations like this were always easier in the dark.

**00000**

**And that's another step closer to the interview... and our inevitable collision of everyone... :) I hope you enjoyed, and I hope you'll leave a review. They help a lot! **

**I hope you're looking ahead to a lovely weekend!**

**-Button**


	11. Chapter 11

**Some weekend writing happened... which is always so much fun! :)**

**Thank you for the review, Skyrider45 - it's a relief to finally have Archie and Jug talking things through. And exciting to near the interview at last! I'm very glad you liked the Cyrano reference. :) Detours and complications do sound likely... the moving parts must assemble. I'll be interested in hearing what you think as we get there!**

**Thanks to Living Lucid Dream as well! FP is finally learning/experiencing some of what he's been confused about re: Brand and Jug. I was glad you connected the dynamic to Toronto, because Jug goes straight back to that - fighting through a panic attack if necessary. The snark is probably going to make more of an appearance (I hope!) as things continue to go forward. I enjoy that a lot as well (perhaps obviously?). :-D And yeah, Archie's still working through stuff... getting snippets of information and visuals did not help. A conversation should, though!**

**Enjoy!**

**-Button**

**00000**

Jughead didn't like the seating arrangement. He and Brand were trapped together on a tiny couch - it was practically a love seat - and Jughead had been motioned to sit right in the middle of everything.

He was next to the male co-host, who leaned in too far and seemed to be creeping closer to him from his chair even while they were just waiting to begin. Jughead guessed the camera angle was somehow better where he was sitting, or maybe it just got the host into more of the frame when Jughead was on camera (a scary thought, since that suggested that the interviewer thought there would be a lot of tight shots of him), but he _really_ didn't want the host in his lap and it was starting to feel like that was where they were headed.

Jughead leaned further back. The man slid forward.

The lady was nicer; she seemed to like her camera angle just fine and stayed in her chair on the opposite side of the enormous coffee table that they were supposedly 'relaxing' around. She looked over at Brand an awful lot, though, so she clearly had terrible taste in men.

There was an audience in the studio, _and_ it would be broadcast live, so everyone was… well, they were as tense as was humanly possible. It sucked. Jughead almost wished he'd done dozens of interviews since debriefing, so it wouldn't all be riding on this one.

"You look sick. Need me to knee this clown?" Brand leaned over to whisper, cupping a hand over each of their mics.

"Someone here can lip read, Brand," Jughead whispered back. "Guaranteed."

"You bet. Stay angled so we don't get busted," Brand quirked his eyebrows at him. "Seriously, though; if he gets any closer to you I'm getting a restraining order."

Jughead stifled a nervous laugh.

"Hey," Brand raised his voice then. "Let's change up the seating."

Nobody objected, even though there was an immediate flurry of adjustments from the lighting and camera crews.

Brand sat even closer to the guy than he'd been to Jughead and gave him a grin with a few too many teeth. "Hel-lo, Michael."

The male co-host eased back in his chair.

The female co-host leaned forward.

Jughead started to loosen up a little. Brand would make sure that nothing bad happened.

**00000**

"They moved?" FP had been looking for someone who was permitted to go onto the set and harass the interviewers. He didn't like the way Jughead was getting edgy with the male interviewer and had started looking like he was considering climbing over the back of his couch to get away from him. If FP knew Jughead, the distressed body language wasn't going to stop just because the cameras started rolling.

"Brandon and Jughead traded seats." Fred was trying to calm FP down.

Claims of trusting Jughead notwithstanding, FP was terrified that the interview might create still more problems for his son. The hype surrounding this single interview had gone from "overwhelming" to "ridiculous," and they honestly needed it to go well. There could be no do-over; this was what all of the cachet they'd gotten by keeping out of the press for weeks could buy them, all in one go.

They'd been banking on this interview calming down the media, the photographers, and the negative press. But it also had the potential to make everything so much worse.

"Good. Okay." FP started pacing again.

"If Jughead sees that you're worried like this, it won't help," Fred was pretty sure that argument would reach FP.

"Yeah." FP stopped pacing and crossed his arms. One hand began tapping aggressively.

Fred laughed then, shaking his head. "Come on, let's take a walk. We've got a few minutes before they start and you look like you're going to spontaneously combust."

They made a circuit of the venue until Mary waved them back into position. The interview was about to begin.

"I brought a paper bag. It was for Jughead, as a joke, but FP can have it," Archie offered quietly.

Fred shook his head and whispered back. "He's fine for now. Keep it handy, though, okay?"

Archie nodded, and folded his arms. He was still absorbing what Jughead had told him the night before, and sizing up Brandon in light of the new information he'd been given. The interview promised to be very interesting.

**00000**

"So, I understand that you met someone special while you were undercover, Jonas," The female interviewer was barely looking away from Brand even though they were at least halfway through the interview and the back half was supposed to focus on Jughead - a strategic move in a number of ways, including being sure that he'd be at least a little warmed up - and Jughead honestly didn't mind being stared at a little less. "What happened there?"

"It was exactly like the classic tale you grew up hearing." Jughead was really glad that he'd memorized the questions and responses at this moment. He'd finally convinced everyone not to sue, and to make a point of legitimizing the article in this interview. Brand was still upset, but he'd ultimately agreed to honor Jughead's wishes and they'd worked out a compromise for the interview. "Boy meets girl; boy is secretly undercover; girl's father turns out to be his arch-nemesis, and girl is totally innocent - and she's very cool about the whole thing. Alice is great, and she helped me out in a big way. She wrote an article about it, so I think a lot of people already know that story."

"Wow, Brandon. You really didn't know this was going on right under your nose? Super spy that you are?" The male co-host, Michael, had an edge whenever he addressed Brand. He seemed to like tweaking the questions, too.

"I taught him well. He's a gentleman." Brand gave Jughead a proud smile and a wink. "And he scales drainpipes with the best of 'em."

The female interviewer, Deirdre, laughed too hard.

The Alice part was done. Jughead wanted to relax, but there were still a few more challenging questions coming up.

"How did your father react to all of this? I know he's had quite the path, from being imprisoned over allegations of murdering a classmate of yours, to being homeless, and then more recently trying to quit a serious drinking habit in an attempt to regain custody of you."

That was not the question they'd agreed to. Not even close. Jughead was actually surprised that Brand wasn't kicking Michael behind the stagey coffee table.

Brand was smiling with all his teeth, which was a little terrifying if Michael's sudden change in body language was any indication. But Jughead was on deck.

"Oh, you mean my _biological father?_ That's actually what some reporters are calling him, since being a single father isn't - you know - difficult or anything. And because I'm obviously the least complicated teenager ever." Jughead let the hosts and the audience laugh before he continued.

"Yeah, he wasn't as supportive as I was kind of hoping he'd be about the whole thing." Jughead's mind raced. He focused on Deirdre now, not wanting to catch Brand's eye or - oh man - his dad's.

"He says I'll understand one day - when I have kids or something, I guess - that you just do whatever you have to when your kid goes missing for months and you don't know if he's dead or alive. You assume he's alive, since you kind of have to, and everything else, well, you expect the worst - like he might be running for his life or kidnapped and tortured or something, and so you fight to get him back as though even one minute of delay could mean life or death."

Jughead felt his chest getting tighter as he spoke, and his breaths were getting shallower, but he didn't want to pause long enough for anyone else to jump in.

"So he went a little crazy, right? And seriously, after the false accusations were cleared up, he gets out of prison to find that I'm missing, and what does he do? He chooses then - the most stressful time in his entire life - to give up alcohol forever. I'm not sure what was going through his head." Jughead managed a deeper breath as his voice became strained. "And yeah, after our home burned down and I disappeared, my dad refused to get a place of his own for months. For as long as he didn't know whether I had shelter, he just kept searching for me. And he _found_ me - when nobody else could, while I was literally undercover in another country."

Jughead took another deep breath, but nobody jumped in. Everyone seemed to be waiting for more. "Uh, yeah. That's how he reacted."

Everyone was silent for a few more moments when Jughead had finished speaking.

"Someone _really_ wants a stepmother," Brand said with a smirk. He patted Jughead's shoulder and gave him a warning squeeze, taking down the tension and getting a laugh.

The slideshow that Brand had provided to the hosts showed a photo of FP working on a steep roof and shooting the camera a suspicious look that probably looked 'serious' or 'focused' to people who did not know him well. Jughead figured Brand must have surprised his dad at work and taken it - and it was quite likely the only usable shot he'd gotten. The image then changed to one of FP laughing while Jughead attempted to get Trigger to roll over by physically pushing the dog through the motion while the dog unhelpfully tried to lick his chin. Brand had taken it the day before Trigger disappeared.

Jughead was jittery - almost shivering - after his impromptu speech, and distracted by the knowledge that he might have just created a massive problem in the middle of their interview. When he looked up at the photo, it took him by surprise and he froze.

"So, we haven't talked about your dog yet. This is Trig, right? Such a fantastically nerdy name," Deirdre had a bright smile for Brand, even though she was addressing Jughead.

"You're going to have to ask his rescuer about that," Brand caught Jughead's expression then and, instead of having him take over as they'd practiced, he kept talking, "bu-ut Trig's gone missing and we're very concerned. If anyone has any information - if you see him - we'd really like to get him back. There's a reward."

Jughead's eyes finally moved from the image to Brand, who nodded encouragingly.

"Yeah. He was being abused by criminals. I walked in on him being hurt and got a little overprotective. I think most people know the story of what happened after that." Jughead decided to go a little off-script: "Just when my dad thought it was safe to go back in the water."

Brand's hand went back to his shoulder and gripped him tightly.

"Uh," Deirdre's smile had frozen. The next question was about the near-drowning, and it was going to sound really weird on the heels of Jughead's joke.

"Speaking of water-," Jughead realized that there was an issue and attempted to smooth the transition.

"I think we need a water break," Brand interrupted. He gave a very fake cough.

The interviewers both frowned, but managed to transition to a commercial. Everyone took a beat.

"'Speaking of water,' Jones?" Brand was whispering and angled, but Jughead could tell that Michael at least could hear him.

Jughead shrugged helplessly. "I was just-,"

"Yeah, don't." Brand pointed toward the area where FP, Fred, Mary, and Archie were standing. "Nobody wants to hear you joking about nearly drowning. Not your dad, not me, and not the American public. Betty's watching this too, you know."

Jughead ducked his head. "I didn't mean it as a joke."

"Yeah. I bet. Just focus on how much you were blinded by your devotion to the monster. People love dogs."

Jughead gave him an irritated look.

"Can we continue?" Michael prompted as they began to receive cues that the short break was nearly up.

"Uh, yeah. Sorry." Jughead smiled awkwardly.

"Well," Deirdre smiled a little too brightly as they started again, "I know you rescued Trig. There's apparently quite the story there, too."

"He and his dog held out against five attackers until the cavalry got there." Brand smiled proudly again, intentionally obscuring the story.

Neither interviewer looked pleased about Brand stepping in to answer the question, let alone glossing over the story so completely.

"Yes; I understand that you _are_ fairly lethal after all of your specialized training with Agent Davies. Is that fair to say, Jonas?" Michael's edge was back, and this was an entirely unauthorized question. Maybe even a banned question. Mrs. Andrews had been fairly specific.

And it was directed to Jughead again.

Brand wasn't risking any more dangerous footage, though. "This guy?"

Jughead found himself suddenly being lifted off of the couch and swung upside down in Brand's ready grip. He grabbed awkwardly for the couch to try and stop the sickening momentum from swinging him any further - and he felt his shirt start to slip.

"Eh, he's still got a lot to learn." Brand had somehow managed to get a death grip on Jughead's shirt, and they were both realizing that this had been a very bad idea. Brand swiftly flipped him back up onto his feet, and Jughead stumbled slightly when Brand nudged him. "But he's figured out a few things to keep the bad guys from picking on him too much."

Now that there was no danger of bruises being revealed on television, Jughead took a deep breath and smiled with a disarming shrug as he ran a hand through his hair to smooth it back down a little. He and Brand had fought over this next line, but Jughead was too startled by Brand's spontaneous action to even think about going rogue again: "I'm not the fastest learner, but I practice every day."

"I think everyone would love a demonstration!" Deirdre was glowing; this was already much more than she'd hoped for.

Jughead sized Brand up. They were both still standing, and this sounded a _lot_ more appealing than answering questions. They hadn't planned anything like this, and Brand was already shaking his head, but Jughead had an idea.

"Well, there is one move that we never have pulled off successfully when we practiced," Jughead offered.

Brand looked suspiciously like he wished he had a gag for his godson.

Jughead tried to look reassuring, but that only made Brand scowl harder. "Seriously. I think we can pull it off. I'm older; wiser; taller."

Jughead moved to where he had a little more space, turned back to Brand, and then lifted his hands and one foot into the fictional crane kick position.

Brand's eyebrows shot up.

Jughead thought he caught a glimpse of Archie handing a paper bag to his dad. He tried not to look over and get distracted.

"Being taller doesn't really help, kid." Brand was fighting a smirk now.

"It doesn't?" Jughead did his best to look confused. "Oh. Maybe it won't work then."

The interviewers were both leaning forward with excitement now.

Brand was trying to figure out what he should be doing, beyond just standing there. Then he had an idea. He raised one hand well above his head, palm down, and gestured to it. "Let's see you take your best shot."

Jughead grinned. When his shoe hit Brand's hand, the interviewers both exclaimed with delight.

"Hey! We actually did it!" Jughead grinned, threw his hands in the air in triumph like they were in a sports movie, and Brand grabbed him in a hug and lifted him up briefly in celebration.

As soon as Brand was close to Jughead's ear, he hissed: "Back on script and stay on script or I will end you, Jones."

They sat back down on the tiny couch.

"Well, we do have a surprise for you both," Deirdre's grin was bigger than ever, and even Michael looked like he was enjoying himself at this point. "Jonas, after all of your hard work undercover, then rescuing Trig, and just this last week passing your sophomore year finals-" they didn't actually know any grades yet, but Jughead fervently hoped that she knew something he didn't "-we here at the network are sending you on an all-expenses-paid vacation! Both of you are going, _and_ Mr. Jones, and your friend Alice of course. Beyond that, you'll have to play favorites and invite another four of your closest friends and their families!"

Jughead blinked. He remembered to smile.

He looked at Brand, who was thanking them politely and smiling appropriately, but who looked just as blindsided as Jughead felt.

And then the interview was over.

**00000**

"You took all the years off of my life that I had left," FP moaned. They'd gotten back to the hotel and ordered food in so that they could try to unwind - and discuss what had happened. The food had yet to arrive, but they'd begun their after action report. "You hadn't left me a whole lot of those, and now I'm officially out."

"I might be there with you," Brand was shaking his head. "'_Speaking_ _of_ _water_,' Jones? And we just officially lost all cred with anyone who has a clue about martial arts."

Jughead was lying on his dad's bed, staring at the ceiling. It was over. He felt numb. "They'll know it was a joke, Brand."

"Are you feeling okay?" Mary Andrews spoke to him more gently. "It went fine. Don't listen to them; they're just stressed. You recovered exceptionally well from some _very_ unprofessional moments on the part of the interviewers. It all looked natural, and… winsome."

"Oh, well as long as it was 'winsome,'" Jughead was still staring at the ceiling. "I think my brain is shutting off."

"Early bedtime, I think," Fred suggested.

FP got up from his chair and moved over to sit on the queen-sized bed next to Jughead. He laid a hand on his shoulder. "Hey. I do think it went well. I know you did your best, and we'll just take it as it comes. The early reactions look good, so we're probably okay. And I appreciated what you said about me." He paused for a moment. "Mostly."

Jughead silently nodded, his eyes still focused on the ceiling.

"You should eat something. We've got some leftover pastries from earlier; one of those might perk you up." Brand walked over, sitting on the edge of the bed across from FP. "The real food will get here soon."

"His adrenaline's finally back down; do not feed him sugar." FP shook his head.

The jittery nerves had converted into uncontrollable energy as soon as the interview had ended. Fred had observed to Jughead that he took after his father when they'd decided to make a few laps of the offstage area to help him calm down, and while Jughead had not asked more about that (in part because they had left his dad with Brand and - yes - a paper bag when they took their walk around the studio, so he figured they'd fill him in later), he did feel reassured that his dad was right there with him. It was normal.

But now all of his energy was gone.

"Seconded. I have to room with him." Archie was still eyeing everyone carefully, and he didn't like that Brandon and FP were issuing more and more orders and not asking questions - something everyone had been coached on doing with Jughead. "By the way, Jug, your phone is going nuts over here. Even Betty's trying to call you right now."

Jughead started to reach for his phone when Archie held it out, but his expression became even wearier as he did so.

"You think the warrior queen is calling to talk to _you_?" Brand intercepted the phone with a smirk and stood up from the bed. "I'll catch her up and you'll get your pity call later. After you've eaten something."

"Do _not_ answer his phone-," FP saw that he was too late and decided to just let it go rather than press the issue with Betty on the line.

"Betty! Did you miss me?" Brand was already grinning at whatever she'd said in reply when he stepped out of the room to continue the call.

"It's fine," Jughead closed his eyes. He thought it was actually really helpful of Brand; Jughead couldn't imagine holding a coherent conversation on the phone right now.

"Because he's leaving?" Archie spoke up again. This time his voice had a slight edge. "That's why neither of you have to pick a fight with him now, right? Because he won't be here after tomorrow?"

Nobody had brought that up yet.

"The lodge _is_ right on Lake Superior, so it's probably near some shipwrecks-," Jughead began. They'd been told just a little about the vacation, and the small lodge - or huge house, depending on how you looked at it - that had beach access and great amenities. There were suites within the lodge and also luxury cabins on the acres of property so people could have as much privacy as they preferred during the shared vacation.

"Yeah, thanks - I already know you don't care if he stays. I'm asking FP," Archie's tone became more aggressive. His parents exchanged concerned looks, unsure whether to intervene or let this play out. "He's _leaving_, right?"

FP hadn't done all the math immediately, but he figured now was as good a time as any. The vacation would begin in just over a week, and it would last for seven days. That didn't quite double Brandon's time with them, but it would be a significant extension of his visit. It might help them get further on investigating the threats, or maybe tide them over if the interview had somehow changed things and the threats disappeared - or somehow came to a head. And there was a clear, defined end date that Brandon could not get creative about when the time came for him to go. This might be something they needed to consider. "I don't know."

"Well, then, I don't know about this whole vacation thing, either." Archie folded his arms.

"Archie, we'll discuss this later," Fred interjected. The vacation arrangements sounded awkward at best, and having both Brandon and Alice invited meant they probably needed to wait and see how the RSVPs shook out before even considering committing one way or the other. "We obviously hadn't planned for this, but it's worth having a conversation before making any decisions."

"I think it might be nice," Mary shrugged, and she smiled reassuringly at Jughead. "Your dad is right, though, Archie. We'll talk it through later."

Jughead closed his eyes again. The numb feeling was not going away.

"Jughead. I can't sit here and say nothing if he might be staying." Archie's tone was dark. "I get that it's complicated, and I heard you last night. I was even going to let it go since he was leaving. But if there is _any_ chance that Brandon's sticking around for longer then I can't stand by and watch you keep these kinds of things a secret."

That got FP's attention. "What are you talking about? What's going on, Jug?"

"We're rooming together, dad. I took my shirt off last night." Jughead's voice was flat and he didn't open his eyes.

FP was still confused.

"You must not be as banged up as I am from training," Jughead raised an eyebrow at the lack of response.

"I have some bruises." FP looked at his son quizzically, but Jughead still had his eyes closed and his expression was blank. There was a knock on their door at that moment, and it seemed like the food might have finally arrived. Everyone was ravenous, but FP nudged Jughead up from the bed. "Come on. In the bathroom; let's see what we've got."

Fred answered the door and was accepting the food from the delivery man when he heard FP's strong reaction to whatever they were doing in the bathroom.

"How did all of _this_ happen?"

Jughead immediately began making a defense. "I don't know why you're surprised. Brand wouldn't be. He almost had a heart attack when my shirt started to slip when he flipped me upside down on live television."

There was a long silence.

When FP spoke again, his tone was measured but his enunciation was sharp with anger. "Brandon is an idiot. And there are two types of guardians, Jughead. Those who know exactly how easily you bruise, and those who have _no reason_ to know that."

Fred winced at the disturbing conversation they were all overhearing as he closed the hotel room door and brought the food over to the low table to spread it out. He shot Archie a more supportive look then - it seemed like his son had been right to be concerned. Maybe even to be angry.

Brand returned just as Jughead was pushing out of the bathroom, and they collided in the narrow entry to the hotel room. Jughead shoved Brand slightly, but it was more out of annoyance than serious anger.

"Whoa. Keep your shirt on, kid; the food's here, and Betty's going to call you back in an hour or two."

FP knocked his shoulder into Brand as he exited the bathroom, and that was much more serious contact than Jughead had made. "Keep his _shirt_ on? Real nice, Brandon."

Brand noticed all of the hostile expressions then. Well, mostly hostile: Mary just looked even more disappointed than usual.

FP's words had tipped him off, though. Not to mention the very weird fact that he and Jones had been in the bathroom together.

"This right here is one of the many reasons why I want to keep you off the pole, Jones. You bruise just like I do." Brand smirked darkly as he lifted his own shirt to reveal an array of dark bruises. "In case it helps: he gives as good as he gets. And it was two against one, so I'm guessing that I look a whole lot more exciting than he does."

"It doesn't help." Archie's words were sullen, but Jughead could tell in a glance that it actually had helped. With Archie, anyway. He couldn't tell what his dad was thinking, and Mr. and Mrs. Andrews looked even more horrified than before, but Archie suddenly looked... satisfied.

Nobody else spoke. Brand began awkwardly dishing up food for everyone. As they ate dinner they tentatively began chatting a bit about the next day's sightseeing, but it was very muted.

Archie came over to sit next to Jughead on FP's bed. He spoke quietly. "Nice work beating up Brandon."

"Why did you do that?" Jughead responded quietly as well, hoping that nobody else would catch on to what they were talking about. "I thought we were cool after last night."

"We were. We are. But people need to stop lying and hiding everything if Brandon's going to be around longer. They need to know what they're agreeing to if they say he can stay," Archie gave Jughead a significant look. "And _you_ need to teach me how to mess Brandon up like that. Two against one is definitely the odds we're gonna need if he'll be here for another two weeks."

Jughead shook his head quickly in refusal, but he couldn't quite stop a small smile.

Because he liked the sound of those odds too.

**00000**

**Yay! The interview happened! And now a vacation is coming right up, which sounds... restful. :) I hope you have a great rest of the weekend! I'll be working up the next chapter and looking forward to any and all reviews. :)**

**-Button**


	12. Chapter 12

**Chapter Twelve! This story is getting long, wow. I guess the title is indicative of more than just the theme? I'm having way too much fun with everything, and I hope you all are too - and it's not just moving slowly. Which seems unlikely with all that has happened, but who can say from the middle of everything? There is no sense of scale over here! **

**Thank you for the encouraging reviews! (and here I am with another long chapter... it works, everyone! ;)**

**Living Lucid Dream, I am so glad you giggled at some of the dynamics. :) And yes, the script was there for a reason... ;) You raised a thought-provoking point about where readers stand on Brand and Jug's relationship. That ambiguity colors how I feel about much of the story (including the co-host, yep; Jug got POV there for a reason). Redemption can occur, but that is no simple road. It's the same for FP, though (yikes), and the boxes scene in Debrief did point out a truth: in these stories, Brand is a catalyst for FP's growth. You're reading the story as intended (yay!): the writer is entirely unsure what would bring Brand into 'good guy' status, and every time I say "huh, this is getting long again..." it's probably the pesky fact that it is sliiiightly complex. And Brand has a strong personality - he's not going to suddenly wake up predictable/sweet (sans lobotomy?). **

**Skyrider45, I hear you on the interview being surprisingly innocuous. They worked their butts off for that - and Alice's article took a lot of the heat off. I loved that you found the anxious joke relatable... because that was a 'write what you know' moment for me. Solidarity! :-D Oooh, and thanks for the paper bag note in particular! :-D Your logic was great, BTW. I was delighted that you came at it with the assumption that I had logic (Woo-hoo!). Whenever a reader trusts that the story will not disappoint, I have to take a flourishing bow. Who knows when I'll get to do that again? I'm ready too! And soon the characters will be also! :-D**

**Welcome back, Guest! Thanks for the kind review - whenever I'm writing and I think 'is anyone silently reading along?' I think of those times when your notes come through with your unfailingly positive observations. Thank you again! Yay for Trig still being alive, too! And yeah, Jug sneaking out... As Brand put it to FP, he rarely has to learn lessons more than twice. We're up to twice on that one now, right? ;) I'm so excited about the holiday too! I really want some happy scenes in this story. Relaxing and kicking back ****for one and all! (but yeah, we know what's coming after that... ;)**

**Man, it's a chatty day! Getting out of the way now...**

**Enjoy!**

**-Button**

**00000**

They did split up to explore the city. But not the way Jughead had expected.

Mr. Andrews dragged his dad off for the day, "to discuss some things."

It worked out, though: Mrs. Andrews didn't even have to police Brand. He seemed to sense that if he messed up with her, it would not end well.

It might even have been his best behavior ever.

"There's another four minutes before our train arrives; that's too long to just stand here. You two head that way, and we'll hit the escalators. Grab the car closest to that pillar," Brand motioned. "We'll get the one directly in front of it."

Jughead and Archie exchanged excited looks and then went to work on their mission.

Jughead wore Brand's sunglasses and Archie had a baseball cap, so they did not feel particularly disguised - but neither did they feel conspicuous in the crowds of tourists. It was a happy medium, and Brand had promised to keep a watchful eye out for photographers so that they could relax and enjoy themselves. That mostly seemed to involve Brand physically moving to stand between them and the many tourists armed with cameras, which quickly turned into a game and made the experience even more fun.

The most complicated part of the day had turned out to be the subway, since they'd quickly realized that at least a few photographers _were_ watching for them - and in the subway it was harder to elude or block them. Brand suggested that they create a sort of 'shell game' where Archie and his mother went one direction, Brand and Jughead went another direction, and then just before their train arrived they'd make a quick dash and get onto adjoining cars. They'd be harder for photographers to track, but they wouldn't lose each other since they knew the system.

It went smoothly the first time, and they identified the professional photographers easily when their reactions were obvious.

The second time, Brand saw Mrs. Andrews and Archie get into position a little too soon and began grumbling as he held Jughead back. "They've got a tail. Archie's too identifiable."

"What do we do?" Jughead's eyes were wide.

"Nothing, kid," Brand was amused. "You're really getting into this, huh? He's most likely already got the shot of Andrews, but he probably can't sell that. So now we just keep you out of sight."

They got on the train at the last possible moment, Brand leaping into the car and then jerking Jughead after him when the closing doors startled him into hesitating.

"Stick close. I'm going to teach you another life skill."

Jughead was apprehensive at first, but then Brand guided him to stand in the middle of the half-empty subway car. He adjusted his godson's stance as the train began to move.

"You'll want to be in good shape for when one of these is packed and you can't reach anything for balance."

Brand was grinning down at Jughead's determined expression when they arrived at their next destination. Jughead was feeling accomplished; he'd had a couple of close calls, but hadn't fallen onto any of the other riders.

They rejoined Mrs. Andrews and Archie, who were also in high spirits. "My mom just deleted _all_ of that photographer's photos. I think it might have been an accident, because she was just trying to delete the ones of me, but man - he was too scared to stop her when she just cleaned the whole memory card out."

"Aw, I can't believe we missed it. We only got to surf the subway."

"You did _what_?" Mrs. Andrews heard that part.

"Nope - that is most definitely not what we did, Jones," Brand shook his head emphatically, shooting a quick glance at Archie's mother. "That means something _very_ different. You and I stood in a subway car like responsible citizens."

Archie and Jughead looked at Brand, then at each other. Both pulled out their phones to look up subway surfing.

"Whoa. Brand, can we take another subway ride?" Jughead grinned.

"Mom, we'll meet you back here in, like, twenty minutes," Archie added.

"Ha ha," Brand said dryly. "We've got stuff to see, and call me crazy but I'd prefer not to get arrested today. Dual citizens don't get diplomatic immunity. Let's go."

The day was amazing.

Archie and Jughead took photos of everything, passing Jughead's new camera back and forth and trying out settings and angles and sometimes almost walking in front of traffic or cutting off other tourists as Brand and Mrs. Andrews tried to steer them safely - and politely - from landmark to landmark without interrupting the fun too much.

They took in views, explored parks, rode a ferry, walked through a museum, and checked out a massive bookstore before Brand caught them contemplating an old-school parking meter and discussing whether they could vault it. He bought them pizza instead so that they'd be occupied and contained in one place for a few minutes. Mrs. Andrews suggested going to a souvenir shop to buy gifts for their girlfriends, and that focused them for a little while longer.

Eventually it was almost time to meet their dads for dinner. They went back to the hotel to change - and shower, since they'd been so energetic in the summer weather - before they all met up at a nice restaurant.

Jughead could feel that he'd begun to tan (hopefully not burn) across his forehead from the long day spent mostly outside, and it felt like they'd really accomplished something by covering so much territory in just one day. He fervently hoped their dads had a similarly great time wandering around New York City.

**00000**

By the time Fred and FP stopped to buy lunch from a street vendor, they were not speaking to each other.

They sat down in a small, shady park to eat, and once they'd revived a little from the heat and both rehydrated, they resumed their argument.

"All you have to do is look at Jughead and it's clear that things are not okay," Fred was trying to get FP to listen to reason. "I'm not saying that I'd make a call to social services. I'm only saying that any reasonable person-,"

"That's just another way of threatening to do it. Don't give me that 'any reasonable person' crap, Fred," FP interrupted.

"Just let me finish, FP-,"

"You've been talking at me for hours. If I let you finish, we'll be here for a month," FP glowered.

"Can you not interrupt me for five minutes? Should I time it?" Fred was beyond frustrated.

"Yeah, sure. Why not? You're the one threatening to call the cops on me and making up the rules for what's acceptable - for me, for Jughead, for pretty much everyone it seems - and listening certainly doesn't seem to be part of the plan for today. Time yourself talking, Fred. Go for it."

Fred sighed heavily. "I'm not going to call anyone. Not at this point-,"

"See?" FP threw his hands in the air. "You're threatening me. You're threatening Jughead."

"I'm not-,"

"Let me talk you through what's actually going on," FP's tone was still angry, but he lowered his volume. Fred motioned for him to continue. "The notes are _not_ from Brandon-" Fred had listened to that story and immediately pointed out that Brandon was the likely culprit, and insisted that he could have set FP up with the brief note in different handwriting "-and that's not even all that I'm worried about."

"Oh, yeah, the 'mystery threat.'" Fred had no patience for that theory either. "You can't look at Brandon and Jughead and decide that their dysfunction makes sense if there's just someone - a conveniently mysterious figure who scares even _Brandon_ _Davies_ \- blackmailing Brandon and leveraging Jughead indirectly through him. How did you even come up with that? You're hearing hoofbeats and you're not just thinking zebras - you've gone straight to looking for unicorns."

"Come on," FP scoffed. "You've hardly seen them together - and you didn't see them after the article. There's something more going on, and I'm not risking-"

"FP, you're reading tea leaves in a tornado. You can't know _what _you're seeing when they interact with each other. Brandon thoroughly scared Jughead. He treated him horrifically and tore him violently away from his home and his life. _That _is the foundation for their relationship, and I am not convinced it has fully gone away. At this point? That could look like anything."

Fred ran a hand through his hair. He could see FP's expression darkening again and tried to get the rest of his thoughts out quickly.

"Brandon has worked hard and I can see that he's done a huge amount to redeem their relationship. But it seems as though the only way Brandon's really capable of relating to Jughead is when he feels threatened. If Brandon's not doing the threatening himself, through their 'training,' it could be that he needs it to come from somewhere else so that he can preserve that dynamic." Fred spread his hands almost apologetically. "How do they get along when there isn't something worrying Jughead? Do you even know?"

FP took a moment and considered the question. Theoretically, yes - he'd seen them interact while studying or watching movies or preparing for the interview (if you were generous and did not call the interview a 'threat'), but in reality FP was convinced that it had all occurred under the blanket threat of whatever third party was leveraging Brandon - and through him, Jughead. And there were the notes keeping them on edge as well. His eyes narrowed.

"You're just trying to get me with a catch-22. Either I say yes, and 'aha! There's no threat!' or I say no and you say 'aha! There's no way for them to have a functional relationship _without _a threat!'"

Fred thought about that. "Okay. That's fair. I rescind the question."

"I appreciate it." FP smirked darkly.

"But even if we put all of that aside," Fred thought that maybe FP was actually hearing him now and he hoped this would finally make sense, "Jughead is covered with bruises. He's spent a lot of time alone with Brandon. Just those two facts should be making you ask more questions than I think you are."

Fred braced himself, but this time FP did not interrupt.

"Jughead is almost an adult-" a line that FP had thrown at him several times "-but 'almost' is still the operative word. And you might recall that it wasn't exactly like a lightbulb turned on when we hit our eighteenth birthdays."

FP smiled reluctantly at that. Fred returned the smile, though he continued seriously.

"You have to protect him; you cannot assume he'll always be able to tell you about abuse. Not when it comes to a situation as complicated as his relationship with Brandon. You have to be one hundred percent certain that you know who you're trusting with his well-being, and even with Brandon leaving you still have to think about the long-term consequences."

Fred had tried to make the argument earlier in the morning that Brandon might be the current aggressor - and FP obviously felt that he had this situation under control - but that anything Davies did without consequences was _also_ teaching Jughead to willingly submit to other aggressors in the future. Jughead was learning from his father's responses to Brandon what treatment he should accept, and what he should fight back against.

Neither spoke directly about the circumstances that had made Jughead willing to go along with Brandon's version of 'guardianship' in the first place, when he'd shown up in Riverdale the previous fall. But both were painfully aware that in many ways they were discussing a whole lot more than just the past months of Jughead's life.

Which wasn't making anything about this conversation easier.

FP reflected wryly that this would probably not be the ideal moment to bring up the drugging - or Jughead's comment about deserving to be beaten. Both incidents still bothered him deeply and viscerally, even though enough had happened since then that he could work with Brandon with more equanimity.

It gave him pause.

"What would you do?"

Fred blinked at FP in surprise. He'd been sure there would be a long fight, an even longer silence, a brief acknowledgement that they were still friends - and then FP would take a few days to think over what Fred had raised, and he'd come up with a way forward that was uniquely his own, but that left Jughead less vulnerable to any possibility that Brandon was manipulating or hurting him.

Fred also hoped that FP would begin shoring Jughead up so that he'd stand a chance as a young adult. From where Fred was standing, Jughead looked awfully vulnerable when it came to the possibility of a vicious boss or unethical landlord.

But it _was_ complicated. Now that he was in the hot seat, Fred had to acknowledge that he ultimately would not bet Jughead's safety - his life, even - on his own firm assurance that the threats were imagined. He didn't like what FP was doing, and he worried about Brandon reinforcing Jughead's concerningly submissive response to any hint of serious conflict with his godfather - but Fred didn't actually know what he would recommend.

FP chuckled. "Not so easy now, huh?"

Fred held up a finger. "Give me a minute. You don't ask me this sort of thing very often." They both laughed then. "I'll have an answer, but give me a little time to think this over."

They got up, brushed themselves off, and resumed walking through the city together.

**00000**

Fred's answer never came.

Instead, he promised FP that he'd continue thinking about everything that they'd discussed, give an answer if he did come up with one, and in the meantime he'd continue doing what he'd done over the years: try to help - pitch in - as he was able.

Brandon would be leaving soon, whether he went on vacation with them or not. But the challenges were still significant, and Fred understood one of the biggest issues better than almost anyone: FP's work schedule.

A new, viable arrangement for Jughead's supervision - protection - while there was an active threat to his safety would be challenging to come up with, let alone implement. Fred hated that he also had to consider the possibility that FP might panic and turn to the Serpents for help keeping Jughead safe.

Throwing Jughead into the intense mill of gang camaraderie when he was still visibly unsure of himself in most roles - outside of his pathologically prescriptive one as Brandon's 'godson' - could easily end in disaster.

Forcing Jughead to work full time at Andrews Construction all summer just because that was where FP was located was not a real solution, either, though Fred had offered to make that happen if FP and also (_more importantly_, Fred emphasized) Jughead decided that was the best option.

Fred didn't need a reluctant teenaged employee under 'construction site arrest.'

FP had winced at that wording and agreed that it would be left up to Jughead if they came up with no better options. Archie would be working part-time for the company later in the summer, too; it would be a stretch adding another forty-hour employee, but it was their busy season and in no way a problem that Jughead was only sixteen.

Bearing all of that in mind when they went to the restaurant everyone had agreed on for dinner, Fred tried to see Jughead and Brandon as FP had described them being together.

And, as it turned out, FP had some good points.

**00000**

"You clean up well," Fred praised Archie as they waited to be seated in the busy restaurant. He returned his son's proud smile and then tried to ignore the way in which Archie's grin became even wider when his parents exchanged admiring looks.

"He really does, doesn't he?" Mary agreed, touching Archie's cheek. "You can see why every photographer in the city is after a shot of him."

Archie rolled his eyes, but he didn't seem able to stop smiling.

"You look very nice as well, Jughead," Mary added. "I don't think I've seen you in that rich shade of blue before. It's lovely on you."

Jughead ducked his head uncomfortably, worrying one of the cuffs of his dress shirt. "Brand got it for me last week. He says I wear too much black. Dark colors."

FP defended Jughead's usual taste, gesturing to his own white dress shirt and black pants. "Classic. Easy to match. You look good, though. You could pass for one of those college kids we saw over by NYU, don't you think, Fred?"

Jughead smiled at that, and then his eyes cut over to Brandon. When Brandon nodded and reached over to ruffle his hair, Jughead seemed to light up even more - though he moved out of reach with a scowl when Brandon's affectionate gesture turned into two-handed finger combing.

"Hey. Stop trying to fix my hair, Brand. I like it this way. And don't forget that I know where you're sleeping - and what your shaving kit looks like."

"If you'd let me actually do it, Jones, then you'd finally see what I'm talking about. And don't _you_ threaten to start something if you're not fully prepared to lose."

Brandon let it drop when FP stepped in front of him to stop him from moving back into range of Jughead. When Jughead saw that he gave Brandon a smug grin and stepped very deliberately back into reach while running a hand through his hair in a taunt.

FP seemed to sense what was going on behind his back and pointed over his shoulder at Jughead in a warning not to instigate anything further. "Either of you start a prank war in the hotel tonight and you'll be sleeping in the lobby."

Fred's suggestion that they only interacted well when Brandon was defending or protecting Jughead was clearly not the whole picture.

Ordering turned out to be complicated, and for a moment Fred wondered if they should have chosen a less formal restaurant. But that turned out to be a telling experience as well.

The waiter began describing a number of complicated options for the entree that FP had ordered, and he simply shrugged. "You know what's good here better than I do; I trust that you'll do right by me."

The waiter seemed gratified by the response, and Jughead watched this play out with some interest. When the waiter similarly described an astonishing number of variations for Jughead's order, though, Brandon swiftly translated them for him without being condescending or obvious about it.

Jughead perked up, expressed his preferences, and then discussed cooking with Brandon for the next several minutes. They kept a menu when the waiter tried to collect them, and Brandon described cooking techniques and showed Jughead how to interpret descriptions of various dishes while Jughead seemed to soak up the information - and attention - like a sponge.

And then Brandon smoothly pulled Jughead into the larger conversation around the table; he clearly wasn't trying to isolate him either.

When FP asked about the bookstore the boys had visited and Jughead pulled out his camera to show him what Archie was describing, Brandon offered to pull up the photo for him so he could help tell the story instead of focusing on the device. Brandon handed the camera back a few moments later with the correct image retrieved so that Jughead could show FP.

Brandon's tone bordered on gruff most of the time, but what Fred had always read as threatening and controlling might actually be more paternalistic (something that set FP off, naturally enough, at times).

In fact, there was a pattern emerging: Brandon was trying to make Jughead feel at home in the fancy restaurant. He'd dressed Jughead very professionally, and the shirt he'd bought for him looked expensive even from across the table. He was obviously trying to persuade Jughead to comb his hair back in a more mature style.

Watching them interact, Fred wondered why that part didn't set FP off more than it did. Brandon very clearly wanted Jughead to be more white collar, or upper class maybe, than his father - more than Brandon himself was, for that matter - and was reinforcing habits and encouraging tastes in the teen in a very calculated manner.

But FP just watched them closely and smiled indulgently when Jughead laughed and joked with his 'godfather.' When Brandon physically confiscated a salad fork that Jughead was insisting on using to eat his entree, Jughead winked at FP and they both laughed at Brandon together.

FP nudged Jughead's shoulder and he leaned into his father with a grin. When Jughead straightened back up in his chair, Brandon gave his other shoulder a squeeze and then teasingly made a point of setting the salad fork firmly out of reach.

Fred suddenly - in spite of himself - had immense respect for what FP was doing by generously sharing Jughead's attention and affection. It seemed to make Jughead happy, and it also gave him something valuable: access to a very different adult's entire lifetime of knowledge and experiences. Fred couldn't picture giving such an intense form of influence to anyone else when it came to Archie. Not anyone other than his mother, anyway.

By the time Brandon was teaching Jughead how to pronounce wine and dessert names from the menu, laughing at Jughead's attempts at a French accent and correcting him affectionately - while Archie made jokes that had Jughead in stitches, and even Brandon cracking a smile at a few of them -, Fred wondered why he hadn't noticed any of this before. He wasn't sure what it could mean, either, beyond the obvious: Brandon was very invested in Jughead and in his future.

And he seemed to have a fairly specific vision for Jughead.

Maybe FP had been right. It _was _complicated. And if the bruises were from training - if Jughead bruised easily, there had been at least some supervision, he and FP talked regularly and at length to check in, and they were even now making plans to work with a professional instructor after Brandon left - then perhaps it was not all bad.

And, in light of his own offers of support for FP, Fred might need to consider that vacation more seriously after all.

**00000**

"You thought I'd touch that dog with a ten-foot pole? After the interview this weekend turned into a freaking telethon for recovering it?" Roy had kept up with the meteoric rise of his former associate.

Sometimes, such as when a major interview was airing - just for instance -, it ground his gears that he'd come so close to splitting the winning lottery ticket named Jones with Brand. But all the same, Roy had done just fine for himself and he knew only too well what a close call that gamble had wound up being for Brand.

This dog thing was trouble, too. Roy usually didn't mind taking the occasional anonymous call; he had his networks, they shared information in useful ways, and some of his best jobs had begun with a shadowy test run or audition of sorts. But this one was not off to an auspicious start.

Roy spoke again when he did not receive a response. "You must have no clue who you're dealing with. The first rule of working with Brand is simple: you always work _with_ Brand."

Whoever had called him silently considered that.

And Roy suddenly wondered if there were more possibilities here than a simple yes or no to the question of the dog.

"Exactly how well do you know Davies?" The man sounded very curious now.

"Have you already forgotten the first rule?" Roy repeated as if he were stupid. Which he probably was. "I'm not writing a biography. Now, what are you after? Maybe I can help you turn things around." There was nothing like being owed a favor. And this might be a big one.

"Ideally... face time with Jones."

"Ah. That's not asking for much, now, is it?" Roy saw his chances at earning a high-value favor disappearing. This man was an idiot. "You must have screwed up royally with Brand if you're that desperate to make nice. That's not a bad idea about the kid being your avenue, but he's a whole lot trickier than a dog."

Roy continued with dark humor. "It might be one thing if there was a clear and present scapegoat and you could say you stepped in to protect - maybe rescue - the kid and the dog. But that means an actual fall guy and one seriously believable story on what led you to intervene. A good Samaritan story would never fly. And I'd want an insider or four if I was looking to get actual face time - without being gutted. Brand isn't known for his question-asking in times of stress."

There was a long silence.

"Let me be clear: my advice is that you walk away. Lose the dog and forget you ever knew Brand. If he'll forget you too, that's your best case scenario." Roy silently wished him luck with that.

The phone disconnected.

Roy leaned back in his chair. He wondered how much it would be worth to Brand to hear that someone was after 'face time' with Jones - had his dog - and had even held a conversation involving strategizing on how to get close to the kid.

It might be nice to reconnect with his old friend.

The only problem was that the idiot on the phone was likely already disposing of the Shepherd. Brand wouldn't be impressed by Roy reporting a threat that had never had legs. It would sound like the pretext it was.

But... there _was_ another way to skin this cat.

After all, Roy didn't need face time with Jones. After this phone conversation, he had a scapegoat. The idiot did not need to be the one to bring the threat to fruition, thereby making Roy's intelligence demonstrably valuable - and assuring that his reappearance in Brand's orbit was welcomed.

Maybe it was time to run a few numbers and consider how much it might be worth to get back in good with an old friend who now had access to high places.

**00000**

They got home from New York to good news: Jughead had passed his finals.

He was so relieved after seeing his grades that he slept for fourteen hours straight that night. It had scared his dad, but thankfully not enough that he woke Jughead up - or fought with Brand about it.

Because Brand had indeed stayed, and he would go back to Toronto directly from their vacation in northern Michigan.

Jughead was thrilled, but at the same time he was spurred into action. He'd had to face facts in New York: Brand was leaving, even if they did have this reprieve, and Jughead did not feel safe without his godfather nearby. That had to change, and Jughead needed to figure out how to make that change happen sooner rather than later.

The notes continued to arrive. One congratulated Jughead on the interview, and one complimented his photography. His dad had a number of questions then about Jughead's online presence, and was actually disappointed when it turned out that his son had not illicitly shared anything online. The letter-writer was being creepy and intrusive once again. In a strange way they'd begun feeling like they were in a relationship with the letter-writer instead of responding to a constant, low-grade threat.

Not that anyone was amused when Jughead fished the notes out of the still-impressive stacks of mail that arrived daily, closed his eyes, and made guesses about what the notes might say. He might have given up the practice, but Brand had muttered "speaking of water" sarcastically the first time, and so Jughead continued doing it in order to annoy him.

For a few days the RSVPs for the vacation remained almost non-existent, and it looked like Jughead and FP were essentially going to get the private vacation they had been planning, just upgraded massively and paid for by the network, and with the unexpected bonus of Brand and the Andrews family coming along.

It had been a relief when Mr. Andrews had committed to going, not even a full day after they'd returned from their trip to New York. Jughead had been even more glad when Archie was enthusiastic instead of conflicted about the trip. The sight of Brand's bruises had apparently turned Archie around on the subject - and so effectively that Jughead wondered if he should be worried about that. Not that there was much he could do if it _was _a bad sign for Archie and Brand.

The Lodges were a 'maybe,' but nobody else had RSVPed yes or no - and at this point the trip was coming right up.

Brand pointed out that with so few people in the lodge it would be a lot like the setup in _The Shining_, which prompted FP to advise Jughead not to start writing a book during their vacation. That necessitated a movie night when it turned out that Jughead had read the novel but not seen the film, and ever since they'd been enjoying running jokes about pranking each other dramatically during the vacation in the large space - because it looked like this was the entirety of the group they would be vacationing with.

But then Tom Keller RSVPed yes for both him and Kevin.

Jughead was thrilled when he heard that, and even though FP and Brand both thought his celebration was premature, it turned out that he was right about what that presaged: Veronica was suddenly allowed to come, though her mother would not be taking the time off to go with her - as if it were summer camp instead of a multi-family vacation. Betty was also permitted to go, with the same arrangement as Veronica.

It was getting really exciting, to the point that Brand sat Jughead down for a chat about abusing his "reply all" privileges and spamming the group with information about wreck diving - which would only be a small portion of the vacation unless they tried to go against the schedule of activities that the network had arranged for everyone.

Which Jughead was aggressively advocating.

It was a good-natured talk, though, and Brand promised that he would at least make sure the two of them got out for a few dives. It was hard to be anything other than enthused.

And then Bryn Carter RSVPed yes.

And so did Joaquin DeSantos.

**00000**

"So much for it being a vacation," Jughead lamented to his dad when they sat up late that night in his room.

"No kidding." FP had been irritated by the Carters' RSVP, which might have hinged on the network's pressure to get particular photo ops, but more likely had to do with optics - and maybe even access to Jughead - in preparation for the pending court case. But Joaquin's RSVP to Kevin's invitation - since each family was allowed up to four people, apparently, and it was not required that they be family members - had been the one to set his teeth on edge. The Serpents hadn't actually done anything, but apparently there was "talk."

Jughead didn't want to know what _that_ involved, and thankfully his dad just said that it would never be something that he needed to worry about.

"The wolf pack can handle it," Brand assured them both.

Instead of reserving another hotel room, Brand had moved in with them for the week before the vacation began, even though he had to sleep on the couch, since the spare bedroom was not yet furnished. It was new and a little strange having him in on Jughead and FP's late-night conversations, but not wholly unwelcome.

Brand had also started referring to the three of them as 'the wolf pack' after they took the opportunity to continue practicing and training together, albeit in ways that were far less dramatic than their first three-person session had been.

"There's a lesson here for you, too, kid." Brand tended to be chatty at night. "This is the kind of thing that happens when you're too nice. We as good as told the network that you and Alice had a thing in Toronto, to cover for your _actual_ insane reasoning, and we condoned her love note of an article-,"

Jughead rolled his eyes. Brand had some strong opinions that were unfortunately not entirely dissimilar to his dad's on the subject.

"-so now you get punished for your good deed. It's _foreseeable_, Jones. And now the network wants photos that Mary Andrews thinks will be trouble. Bryn can spend the week trying to get her hands on a soundbite from me or your dad. Alice can spend the week trying to get you to say stupid crap, and let's face it - that doesn't take much effort."

Jughead glared at Brand and looked to his dad for backup, but FP merely shrugged. The interview had apparently cemented his reputation for being unpredictable. Horrifyingly so.

"We'll figure it out," Brand continued, "but you remember this in the future and make sure you're not calling things 'bygones' prematurely. A whole lot of people will - stupidly - take you at your word."

Brand paused and looked more thoughtful. Apparently the lecture part was over. "But DeSantos is what, sixteen? And it's a huge property. We can have you 'politely' avoid both of 'em, and your dad and I will run interference. It'll still be a vacation." Brand patted Jughead's shoulder.

"He's _not_ sixteen," FP said firmly. He'd been reluctant to share any details about Joaquin with either Jughead or Brand, but apparently this much needed to be said.

Eyeing FP, Brand absorbed the detail - but seemed to learn a lot more from the simple statement than Jughead did. "I see."

They might be starting to have codes of their own, Jughead reflected. Which was quite possibly bad news for him, since they'd begun ganging up on him more frequently since the trip to New York.

Jughead had noted (with more approval) that Brand and his dad fought a lot less now. He'd even felt free to tease about which of them was 'alpha' of the wolf pack - particularly when they teamed up to make 'pup' jokes at his expense - but the dynamics were suddenly confusing. For one thing, neither seemed to care about debating who was in charge, even though that had been the basis for pretty much all of their conflicts over the previous several weeks.

It almost seemed to Jughead as if they'd privately decided who was the alpha - without telling him - and they were both fine with it. Which was very unlike them.

If that was the case, though, Jughead hoped it was his dad. For everyone's sake. But it wasn't obvious what had shifted between the two men; maybe they were even sharing the role somehow.

Nevertheless, regardless of how that had shaken out, Jughead did find it comforting that the three of them were united in facing down these new challenges.

Brand made a joke about his hunting knife; FP snorted with dark amusement. Both looked over at Jughead with mirror image expressions of reassurance when they insisted that they were fully capable of keeping the drama down to a dull roar so that he'd get a chance to really relax on their vacation.

Jughead wasn't sure he was capable of relaxing - not completely, anyway. But it felt safer knowing that they were all on the same team.

**00000**

"Betty's getting her car today. She's been waiting for me to be able to go along."

Brand had to work, so Jughead was explaining to his dad where he was going, who he'd be with, what they'd likely be eating, the weather and the air quality predicted for the day… "Mr. _and_ Mrs. Cooper will be there, and I haven't seen a photographer in two days."

He really wished the timeframe sounded a little more impressive, but unfortunately one photographer (or maybe just someone with a cellphone) had managed to get some impressive shots of him and Brand standing up while riding the subway in New York - Jughead looking up at his godfather and obviously mimicking Brand's very secure stance, which looked more than a little martial - and now those were the ones to beat. And, despite Mary Andrews' best efforts, the competition was fierce.

No more photos of Archie had circulated, and Brand had wondered aloud whether Mrs. Andrews was doing her best work for her own family instead of working as hard as she could on Jughead's behalf - but Jughead had simply dared him to say that to her face, and that was the end of that line of inquiry.

Jughead really wondered what signal went off in a photographer's head that told them to join a race to get the best, most striking, and inexplicably resonant photo of someone who _really_ did not want to be photographed. He was enjoying learning more and more about his own camera, but there seemed to be no kinship between him and the people providing photos to magazines and newspapers.

"I don't know. Brandon can't go with you today, but maybe tomorrow he could." FP was still hesitant.

"He's leaving after the vacation, dad. It's time for me to grow up and leave the nanny state behind." Jughead raised an eyebrow, waiting for his dad's reaction. They hadn't talked much about the notes and securing their own safety in a post-Brand world. But they needed to start.

"We're getting you a car. As soon as we get back from Michigan." FP reflected on the idea. "I'll kick in some toward it, but you'll figure out the rest. It's time we talked about you getting a part-time job again, too, as long as it doesn't disrupt your studies. Maybe you could work with me at Andrews Construction, just for the summer." He figured this was not a bad way to raise the idea and see what Jughead thought.

"Brand says he can get me an internship," Jughead offered. "It would be really good for college applications."

"Doing what, exactly?" FP asked suspiciously. "Would it be paid?"

"Yeah; he knows I need a job." Jughead avoided eye contact. Brand's exact words had been 'I know FP's going to put you to work, so let's make it something useful.'

Jughead had already objected strenuously to that characterization, which made it sound like his dad just kept him around for free labor or something, and he didn't need his dad getting upset as well. Also, Jughead had already learned that 'just' a job was useful. He'd run the Twilight Drive-In for long enough to know that he'd be head and shoulders above his peers when it came to working world adjustments after college.

Jughead had no idea what the internship would entail, though. "I'd probably be... making coffee for people in suits who carry guns."

"Sounds fancy." FP's tone was still suspicious.

"It's just entry-level," Jughead countered with a scowl, starting to sense what his dad was reacting to. "Not even, really."

"It's a foot in the door, boy. Don't you take it for granted." FP honestly wasn't sure how he felt about seeing Brandon leverage connections so effectively, but he would not kneecap his own son because it felt unfair. Like nepotism. And wasn't _that_ an awkward thought, after everything that had happened. "You have to apply? Interview?"

The answer was no, but Jughead was fast realizing that answer would not play well. And lying would not help; his dad was definitely going to ask Brand about this. Jughead shrugged.

"Uh-huh." FP's eyes narrowed. He seemed to have caught on to what the shrugging indicated. "I'll talk to Brandon. I'm not saying no-" Jughead was reacting as though he'd declared that _someone_ would have to take over the family business so 'no more book learning' or something "-but he's Canadian. Let's just start with what he's got in mind for location."

"He's a dual citizen, dad. And it would be local. Near Riverdale." Jughead had no idea about that either. But he was pretty sure that even Brand knew there was no way he could get his own place - let alone return to Toronto with him for weeks or months at a time.

It was tempting for FP to respond that Brandon was a liar, and that he'd once promised a trip to Mexico. He didn't want to throw that back in Jughead's face, though, since it had been a fairly intense conversation earlier that week in which his son had shared that particular gem.

And he did want to trust Brandon. It was just more difficult when it came to Jughead's future. FP was not always convinced that he and Davies were on the same page about what was best for the long term.

"All right. Go help Betty pick out a car. We'll talk more later." FP tapped Jughead's shoulder decisively, and Jughead seemed to take that as a blessing not only for today, but also for the internship. And maybe it was. In any case, Jughead leaned into a brief hug and then went to find the latest paperback from the college reading list he'd resumed working his way through.

FP felt an unfamiliar mix of pride and apprehension when he was left alone in the kitchen area of their home. He'd lived alone much more than a father should, considering the circumstances, but he was gaining sympathy for Fred's occasional complaints that the boys were going to grow up and leave them one day.

But then Jughead apparently caught sight of the time and came skidding past on the hardwood floor in his socks to grab his new sneakers - they'd never returned to the drug house to retrieve the battered ones that Brandon had shucked off of him there - and FP was reassured.

His son had not grown up yet, and in a rush of warm emotion FP knew he'd never regret seeing him grown, successful, and yes - maybe very different from his father, and perhaps even a somewhat 'pretentious' young man who bore more than a passing resemblance to Brandon and who had gotten his position in life through connections.

But all of that was Jughead's decision, and the latter was no more than his son would have - eventually - earned on his own, FP was certain. Forcing him to take the long road to prove it would only prove something else entirely: that his father was stubborn.

Which he was. But he'd pick his battles.

FP smiled at the reminder that there was one battle that he'd finally won, though he hadn't shared that information with anyone just yet. He'd have to get Jughead the paperwork for fixing that falsified passport, though, because his boy was once again - legally, officially - his namesake.

**00000**

**Aaaaaand we have the wind-up! Your reviews will be much appreciated as we get into lucky chapter thirteen. Thanks for reading! (and yes, you called it on all counts, Skyrider45****: good math skills, good read of my love for Kevin, and nice logic about teasers.**** That was great! :-D )**

**I hope your week is going well!**

**-Button**


	13. Chapter 13

**Lucky chapter thirteen! :-D**

**Thank you for the wonderful reviews - I so enjoyed hearing everyone's reactions to NYC, and longer-term machinations we might see more of... :)**

**Living Lucid Dream, I worry about teaching readers bad things. Brand does banned moves in training (oops) and now I've brought up subway surfing - next I'll be talking about elevator surfing or something. ;) Brand and Mary Andrews raised the question for me of whether it's just her (very possible), or if there is a dynamic between Brand and women more generally(?). I've got my eye on it; we'll see what happens! Fred is kicking off a new phase for FP and Jug: looking ahead instead of just barely managing the latest crisis (yay!). As is Brand...? But Jug's name is fixed now, so who knows which adult will win out (and how). I've been thinking about Roy since AWP; I have no idea where his arc is headed, but I am curious. Oooh, and a flourishing bow over the Joaquin surprise! It _is_ a lot of folks on the vacation - I'm loving the possibilities and learning (fast) that writing lots of people in one scene is both fun and challenging. :-D **

**Skyrider45, I loved that this last chapter resonated with you in multiple (very cool!) ways. I'm starting to feel like I'm planning a vacation as well as writing a story as I research, and it seems like a lovely place by all accounts. And an intense one. :) You're very suspicious of Brand (salad fork and all ;) ). I can't think what he's ever done to deserve... (can't even finish that with a straight face :-D) I'm interested in seeing where that goes as well! Is it just class stuff (potent on its own) or far more? The chessboard _is_ set (I like that phrase!), and I loved that more than one person said "...um, where do the other parents go?" Observant readers (whose math skills continue to be strong! :) are the best. :-D It is quite the group, and I'm enjoying that dynamic already. :)**

**Guest, thank you for the great compliment! i hope you like this chapter just as much. Fred's insights were really fun to work through, in part so he could reconnect, but also because he gives a helpful (different) perspective, I agree. I loved writing the restaurant scene, and I'm glad that was a fun read. Roy is a total wild card, so I'm with you wondering what's to come. Also, poor Jug under house arrest sounds like the safest option at the moment - but without a timeframe, that might be very Toronto-esque. We'll see how worried Brand and FP get... :)**

**Enjoy!**

**-Button**

**00000**

Everything was perfect. Jughead leaned back in his seat and lifted his camera again to try shooting the scenery as it whipped past. He'd already seen more deer than he'd known existed, and had high hopes of seeing his first moose.

It helped that Brand was no longer allowed to drive after he'd taken the rental car from Sawyer International Airport and demonstrated 'offensive driving,' which was not exactly what it sounded like. Or maybe it was. Jughead had noticed that it seemed to personally offend his dad, anyway, and at least four or five other drivers before FP convinced Brand to pull over and give up the driver's seat.

That was when Jughead had been given permission to ride shotgun, which gave him a much better angle for taking pictures. And in hindsight, maybe it should have somehow clued him and his dad in when Brand had specifically suggested that Jughead be in the back seat before they pulled out of the rental lot.

But it was fine; Jughead figured that whole incident was just a sign that Brand was in a good mood. Thankfully nobody else was riding with them, so this would not become a _big deal_. It was just another story that would only be funny later, but would no doubt entertain them for years to come. It also ended with ice cream, this time at a roadside creamery since the network had splurged and gotten them a _really_ fun car for the vacation. It wasn't a convertible, but it was powerful and it was comfortable. And there could be no ice cream anywhere near the leather seats.

Jughead figured their quick start off the blocks and his dad's lead foot would have them to the lodge before anyone else, even though they'd all been on the same flight - and there had been the ice cream stop along the way. Mr. Andrews had offered to drive the girls up, and they were no doubt driving a lot closer to the speed limit. And it was hard to picture Sheriff Keller driving anything but lawfully.

FP's hand went to the stereo before he remembered and looked over at Jughead.

"It's okay. He isn't driving," Brand answered for him when Jughead hesitated; he still hated to have music playing that was loud enough that he couldn't easily hear what was going on around him. "Time to learn that the one in the driver's seat rules the car, kid. Your dad's up to it; he's no distracted driver."

Jughead had decided that he didn't entirely like it when Brand got too chummy with his dad. It never seemed to end well for Jughead. But when classic rock filled the car - and then his dad turned it down slightly when he noticed Jughead reacting - it was kind of nice. Brand reached forward to push his shoulders down and then give them a firm pat where they'd begun to hunch up without him realizing it. "Relax, kid. This is supposed to be fun."

Jughead dropped his seat back then, continuing to lower it after Brand protested that he was coming back into his lap - because FP had his seat slid as far back as it would go, and Brand refused to sit in the middle seat in the back - and Jughead finally relaxed with his arms crossed behind his head and his seat fully reclined.

With Brand glaring down at him, sure, but he just closed his eyes and then reached blindly for Brand's sunglasses where they'd ended up on the center console of the vehicle.

"Be careful with those." Brand got to them first and he slid them onto Jughead's face and then ruffled his hair. When he missed Jughead's ears entirely with the stems of the sunglasses, there were adjustments to be made - but it was nice of him to do. There was some movement as Brand slid out from under Jughead's seat and into the middle of the back, and then Brand's voice had a smile in it: "Enjoying your vacation so far?"

"This is the life," Jughead grinned. "We should have done this instead of debriefing."

Brand laughed. "I'll suggest that the next time we recover a kidnapping victim."

"Wait, what?" Jughead raised himself up on one elbow and opened his eyes. "You work with people who were kidnapped?"

"What did you think I do? I mean, it's a lot of different stuff, but that's occasionally part of it. It's not like it's common," Brand was surprised by the strong reaction, but immediately felt foolish for not seeing it coming. "I don't do debriefing or anything. They usually keep me away from interacting in person when it's anything involving kidnapping, because of you."

FP grunted at that, but didn't comment.

Jughead bit his lip. "If I interned, could I help with debriefing?"

Brand shook his head. "No way, kid. Why would you even want to?"

"I'd make it suck less," Jughead gave him a 'duh' look.

"Debriefing is… well, you know what it is. It's sensitive. They don't let interns anywhere near that." Brand was thoughtful. "If something came up where you were a good fit, I could let people know that you've had some experiences that might make you a resource. It would be more like giving your phone number to someone and maybe they'd ask you questions or talk about things."

"Brandon." FP made the word a sentence.

"If your dad thought it was a good idea," Brand amended.

"I'd have to know an awful lot before I'd ever sign off on something like that," FP's tone was firm, but also apologetic. "Don't get your heart set on it, Jug."

"I'm not _hoping_ someone gets kidnapped, dad," Jughead responded. "But if they'd just gotten free, you know, maybe I'd make them croissants. Or whatever."

Brand's eyebrows shot up. Rose would be very pleased to hear this, though Brand wasn't inclined to share any of this conversation with him. Not right now. They'd see how the internship worked out. But it did seem to him that any position Jones managed to secure would give him protection - leverage of his own - along with making him valuable to Rose. This was not a bad thing. It was time to change the subject, though. "You know how to make croissants?"

"No. I should learn, though. Do you know how?"

"Nope. We can try this week."

Jughead smiled, even though his dad was reaching over and pushing him off of his elbow and back down onto his seat.

"Stay straight in your seatbelt. I'm having trouble keeping track of our speed in this thing and there are deer everywhere."

"Sorry," Jughead put his arms behind his head again. "How long are people usually kidnapped for, anyway? What's the average?"

"So - I've got a croissant recipe pulled up on my phone. Let's talk ingredients," Brand replied. He nodded his head meaningfully toward FP when Jughead looked at him in confusion.

"Ah, yes, _ingredients_," Jughead echoed.

FP rolled his eyes, but caught Brand's eye in the rearview mirror and could see that his point had been taken. It was far too soon to put Jughead in that kind of position with another survivor. He'd just begun getting his feet under him - he was so young - things were still complicated and perhaps even dangerous.

And FP wasn't sure he liked the possibility suddenly looming in front of them that the kidnapping might define Jughead's career and thus much of the rest of his life. It made FP profoundly sad for the devoted writer Jughead had been, right up until the previous fall had upended everything.

Maybe that was how everyone's life worked, though: you were shaped by experiences, and without a kidnapping there might have been… world travel, maybe, or an inspiring teacher in school that changed everything. FP would have to take some time and really think this through. Wrap his head around it.

"Could an engineer do stuff like that on the weekends?"

"Yes; they can make croissants on weekends," Brand's tone was dry.

"Brand, I mean-,"

"_Yes_, Jones."

"Okay."

FP frowned. That was another career path he hadn't heard floated before. Who knew; maybe Jughead had been ready for a change even before anything had happened to disrupt his life.

"It might cut into my writing time, but if I write about true crime it would double as research, too," Jughead was musing aloud.

And FP smiled. There was his boy. He reached over to squeeze his shoulder affectionately.

"Watch the road, dad," Jughead had closed his eyes again. "Bambi wants his mother to live."

**00000**

They were not the first ones at the lodge. Sheriff Keller, Kevin, and Joaquin were already relaxing in rocking chairs when they drove up.

"How fast did you _drive_?" Jughead was impressed.

"Hi, Jughead," Tom Keller did not answer, but he gave him a smile in response to the question. "Thanks again for the invitation. We were already planning to go camping in a few weeks, but oh - Lake Superior in the summer is not to be missed. Chilly swimming, but I already spotted wetsuits inside."

"It's that cold?" Jughead eyed the lake and the access that they had to the water from the estate. He could see one of the cabins, too, and wondered about the layout of the property.

"It's not bad in the sun, at least for a little while at a time," Keller said. "This is the right season for that, or maybe just a little later in the summer. You've been E-mailing about diving, though, and we'll definitely want more gear to do that up right."

Jughead grinned at the enthusiasm he heard in Sheriff Keller's voice.

"Thanks for inviting us; this place is amazing. My dad has been talking about us getting up here for years," Kevin was smiling warmly. Joaquin waved from behind Kevin with a sardonic expression, and Jughead felt FP walk up behind him and drop a hand onto his shoulder.

"That's cool; I had no idea this area existed until this year," Jughead spoke to Kevin even as his dad's hand started pulling him away. "I'm glad you made it."

He had never felt quite so literally like a chess piece before, but when his dad steered him into the house that was all he could think of.

"Steer clear of Joaquin this week," FP said.

"Oh, is _that_ what you meant by dragging me away from him and Kevin?" Jughead widened his eyes in feigned surprise. "I thought maybe you meant that I should room with them. Awkward, but-,"

"You'll be with me, kid," Brand had his bag and Jughead's. "Two people to a room."

"No, he won't," FP responded. "He's rooming with Archie."

"Yeah?" Jughead had been told 'we'll think about it' every time he'd asked. "Are you guys rooming together again?"

"If there aren't enough rooms, I guess that's the plan," Brand quirked his eyebrows. "Your dad just can't get enough of me."

"I'll keep an eye on him," FP assured Jughead. "You just relax this week."

"I'm going to check out the lake," Jughead took his bag from Brand. "Do either of you want to hit the water with me? When everyone else gets here we can make dinner, Brand."

Jughead and Brand were taking the first turn cooking dinner that night for everyone in the well-provisioned kitchen that they'd been promised by the network.

"Sounds good. I'll meet you down by the water, kid," Brand nodded.

"Me too," FP added. He went to retrieve his bag from the car while Jughead swiftly climbed the lodge's impressive central staircase to check out the bedrooms that had not yet been claimed by Joaquin and the Kellers.

The lodge was all exposed wood and stone work, with a huge central fireplace. The bedrooms were on the second floor, and Jughead chose one of the smaller rooms when he saw that it had huge windows overlooking the lake that opened up like doors onto the wraparound balcony on that side of the building. It still had a full bathroom just like the other bedrooms, and the view more than made up for being in slightly closer quarters with Archie. They probably wouldn't be in the room much anyway.

Jughead changed into swim shorts and one of the swim shirts that Brand had bought for him to hide his bruises and then he headed down toward the water. He was pleased to see a long dock and an impressive swim raft that both clearly belonged to their lodge. They had a lot of space to themselves, though other properties were visible along the shore when Jughead walked out onto the dock as he continued exploring.

Brand and FP came down to the water's edge together a few minutes later, and Brand yelled over to Jughead as they approached. "Gonna do some Tai Chi out there?"

Jughead hopped up onto one of the posts, adopting the crane kick position with a grin.

"Get down before a photographer sees you," FP called then.

"There shouldn't be any photographers around here," Jughead protested, but he hopped back down.

The network would be sending out a photographer later in the week to get some publicity in return for their generosity, but even when taking candids that person would not likely be stealthy about his or her presence. And they all hoped that the live interview had taken the wind out of the sails of the media; there was no more 'silence' or 'mystery' surrounding Jughead, so hopefully they'd all be able to relax.

"We'll just assume that they're around here somewhere until we get the lay of the land, huh?" Brand backed FP up. "I'm going to check out that raft, but I don't think we'll have a lot of time before we need to start making dinner."

The three left their towels on the dock, getting into the chilly water and striking out toward the raft. Brand took an early lead until FP had confirmed that Jughead was swimming comfortably and not in any danger of a panic attack in the water.

Then it was a race.

"You guys are ridiculous." Jughead was the last to arrive at the swim raft and he hauled himself up the ladder that neither adult had bothered with. The raft floated awfully high out of the water, so Jughead figured that was just one more part of the competition.

"What's ridiculous is that your dad can swim like that." Brand was laughing appreciatively. "Not bad, old man."

FP just shot Jughead a deeply satisfied grin.

"Do you think there's a set of gladiator jousting poles somewhere around here?" Brand asked. "This raft is a little big for it, but I think the wolf pack is tough enough to manage. Just aim for the water if anyone goes down too hard."

"We could always try training out here," Jughead responded eagerly, shaking water out of his hair.

"What about photographers?" FP reminded him.

"Come on, just for a little bit," Jughead protested. "The sun is angled all wrong. We'd just be silhouettes unless they're out on the water. And if they were there we'd see them."

"Huh, silhouetted combatants on the water. That would never sell," Brand said sarcastically.

"It wouldn't look like us, necessarily," Jughead countered. "So, yeah."

"For a few minutes," FP relented. He moved over toward the ladder, which he assumed would be a trouble spot; Brandon and Jughead would steer clear of him there.

"I'll grab your dad," Brand said - and then erupted into laughter at the look on FP's face.

"You really want to go?" FP changed direction and moved over next to Jughead, who gave him a delighted grin. "Let's try this now that it's a little more fair. Two against one, this time _without_ anyone starting in a submission hold."

Brand's grin became a little more feral, though he was still laughing. "You bet."

Jughead was surprised when he was the first one to be flung clear of the swim raft, and his dad held his own against Brand for a little longer before joining him in the water. He swam back over to the ladder and climbed up while FP hauled himself back up the side of the raft.

"Again?" Brand was already in a fighting stance.

"Just a few more times." FP nudged Jughead. "You look cold."

"I'll warm up." Jughead feinted and FP realized he needed to be quicker about getting in position for the bout. They must have been taking it easy on him during their training over the past week - and they had done very little actual sparring.

This time FP was the first one off of the raft, and he had time to swim over to the ladder - and was still debating whether or not to climb back up before the other two had ended the bout - when Brand swept Jughead's feet without getting him clear of the raft.

"_Brandon_!" FP climbed the ladder swiftly.

Brand had caught Jughead just before he hit the deck, and both were laughing.

"That's kind of a trick, dad. Dancers do it too." Jughead used Brand's shoulder to pull himself back up from where he was being supported just above the planks of the raft. "I can't do it to Brand. I can't catch him, anyway. But it's supposedly not too hard when you get the hang of it."

"Uh-huh." FP folded his arms. "What happens if he drops you?"

"Never have." Brand gave him a smug smile.

"Well, actually..." Jughead was laughing again.

"Never mind. Once. He was fine." Brand shook his head at Jughead. "You thought it was funny then, too, as I recall."

"I did not," Jughead objected. "I thought your face was funny. You thought I was _dead_."

"That was before I knew how thick your skull is." Brand smirked.

"I really hate these stories," FP said. "Tell me one about Brand taking a hit and you thinking _he_ was dead, Jug."

"Never happened." Jughead shrugged, but he was smirking. "I always knew that killing a demon would take more than just my mortal strength. So even when I got the drop on Brand, I never had any illusions that he was actually dead."

Brand shoved Jughead off of the raft.

"He got me good a few times, FP." Brand leaned down to offer his hand to where Jughead was sputtering and laughing in the water. He helped his godson walk his feet up the side of the raft before pulling him the rest of the way up onto the deck. "Keep an eye out this week and you might even see it happen again. You're getting better, too. Want to practice those submission hold escapes?"

"Sure," FP figured it was a good idea to continue taking advantage of Brandon's expertise before he left at the end of the week.

They sparred and practiced and didn't notice that time had gotten away from them until they heard a piercing whistle from the dock in the middle of one of their bouts.

"Hey, it's Archie! And... everyone, actually." Jughead was distracted and turned to wave, so Brand motioned for FP to step back. Once he had enough space, he scooped Jughead up and dramatically threw him overboard, head first.

Jughead surfaced and then started swimming in toward the dock. "Race you back!"

FP and Brandon exchanged a look and then both dove to give chase.

FP beat them to the dock, but it was a closer race this time. Everyone had indeed arrived and wandered down to the water, except for Bryn and Alice. Archie stepped back from the ladder at the end of the dock so that they could climb up.

"Cold enough for you?" Tom asked, grinning at them as they climbed out of the water.

"FP," Fred slapped him on the shoulder in greeting, "I hope that's not what you have in mind for activities this week."

FP laughed heartily at that idea as they walked up toward the lodge together.

"Jug!" Betty greeted her boyfriend and then pretended to cringe away when Jughead met her with a dripping wet hug and then left his arm slung over her shoulders. "I can't believe we're staying here for a whole week. It's so beautiful... and you looked _very_ impressive out there."

Jughead grinned when Betty's arm curled around him a little more closely when she mentioned the training. Brand had said that would make them more attractive, but Jughead had always assumed that just meant he'd be fit - ripped, even, if that was physically possible for him - and not that the act of training itself would attract positive attention. Jughead decided on the spot that he would have to think more about how to use this newfound insight during their weeklong vacation.

Archie punched Jughead's shoulder lightly in greeting. "Hey man, I found our room. Good choice."

Veronica was slightly behind Archie, and Jughead smiled and nodded to her in greeting. She seemed a little subdued, but returned his smile. "Thanks for inviting me. My mother couldn't come, but she wanted to be sure you knew how much she wished she could have. She's going to be so jealous when she sees pictures."

"_I'm_ jealous of us, and I'm actually here," Betty added with a grin. "Look! More deer!"

"She's been saying that constantly since the plane landed," Archie teased. "Seriously, though; are they having some kind of biblical plague up here?"

"There might be moose, too. I'm hoping. I've never seen one before." Jughead lit up all over again, just thinking about the week stretching out before them. "I'm so glad you could all come - it's going to be great. Fair warning, though - the water is _cold._" Jughead raked a hand through his wet hair. "I'm helping make dinner tonight, too, so maybe just eat whatever Brand cooks."

"Oh, um, the Carters are in the kitchen, actually," Veronica said. "Did wires get crossed, maybe? You can just swap for whenever they were officially scheduled, but I think they're probably well into the cooking process by now."

"Oh." Jughead hadn't actually given a lot of thought to Bryn and Alice being there, since his dad and Brand had ended up being more concerned about Joaquin's presence on the trip. "No, of course. It's fine. We can swap meal preps. I guess I should have hit 'reply all' a few more times."

"Uh, no, man." Archie shook his head. "Your privileges are so revoked."

"That's what Brand said too." Jughead smirked.

As they turned to leave the dock, Jughead grabbed his oversized swim towel and wrapped himself and Betty in it.

"You two are so cute." Veronica was still a few paces away from Archie, and her expression seemed affectionate but also wistful.

Jughead was really wondering what was going on with them. Betty looked a little concerned and confused too, so Jughead suspected she didn't know - or maybe did not know the whole story. He and Betty could catch up later in the evening, and he could ask Archie more after that, since they were rooming together. Jughead thought that doing that tonight, right away, might be wise. This had been going on for weeks now, whatever it was.

"Get up here and get dressed! The Carters cooked for us, kid," Brand was walking out onto the second floor wraparound deck that connected a number of the bedrooms. The railing was much higher off the ground than most second stories, so he had to call loudly to them in order to be heard.

"I'm coming, Brand!" Jughead yelled back.

"Is that... awesome?" Veronica asked then, quietly enough that Brand would not overhear. "Having a godfather who dotes on you constantly?"

Jughead managed to keep walking, but only just. He quickly made eye contact with Archie, who looked confused and startled as well and shrugged.

"Uh, he's just Brand. You know. It's complicated. I mean, you saw him when we ran into Alice in Fox Forest."

Veronica nodded. "He's scary when he's mad, but that's just sort of his personality, right? Military and all that? He was a lot of fun the rest of the time. Except when he grabbed you, obviously, but… is that kind of normal for you? Since you do that sort of thing all the time?" Veronica looked uncomfortable now.

Apparently the visual of them training on the raft had shifted dynamics yet again.

"I don't know. I guess. He's really just Brand," Jughead tried to picture what Brand must look like to Veronica. But he quickly realized that he wasn't at all sure what she saw.

"Oh, come on," Betty chimed in then. "It was a nightmare last fall, and obviously your life was terrifying in Toronto for a lot of reasons. But since he came back to Riverdale and you got out of the hospital, yeah he's been rough around the edges, but it's been kind of like… he's your fairy godfather."

Jughead laughed. "You should _definitely_ call him that to his face."

"If I was hospitalized and my uncle or someone took a full month off just to spend it with me, it would be pretty amazing," Veronica was insistent.

"He's telecommuting." Jughead was getting uncomfortable with this line of inquiry. He didn't want to even hint at the threatening notes as a reason for Brand's continued presence - and he was actually getting the sense that his friends might even see _that_ as more proof that Brand was wrapped around his little finger. Or whatever they seemed to think. As if.

"So he could just do this whenever he feels like it?" Betty was surprised and sounded only more impressed. "He didn't need to take time off or anything?"

"He's taking this week off, for the vacation," Jughead shrugged. "He's really just-,"

Archie sighed then and interjected. "I'm going to preface this by saying that I really don't like Brandon."

"Perhaps the least necessary preface in the history of prefaces," Jughead replied dryly.

"Yeah. But they're kind of right. It's not something most people get from a godfather or an uncle or _anyone_. If I even remotely liked him, I might be jealous of all the stuff you guys do together."

Jughead wasn't sure what to say to that. He'd certainly been jealous enough of Archie's relationship with Fred over many years, but it felt profoundly disloyal to bring that up when his own dad was… well, Jughead wouldn't trade dads with Archie now. Even if he would have in a heartbeat when they were younger.

"Jones!" Brand was still on the balcony and called down to them again. "There's climbing gear and a whole mess of these balconies. _Not_ for sneaking out, so don't even think about it - Betty, I'm looking at you, too -, but how much do you want to bet your dad wouldn't see something like that coming?"

"Very stealth, Brand!" Jughead yelled back up, rolling his eyes at the fact that they were shouting plans back and forth for some kind of a sneak attack.

"You know what? I take it back. I'm officially jealous." Archie shook his head, but grinned. "Cut me in on that one?"

Jughead nodded. "We might get killed, but sure. I'll keep you posted if we actually make a plan."

Betty and Veronica looked at each other with wide eyes and went past them into the lodge.

**00000**

Everyone sat down to dinner, and Jughead was glad when he saw Alice talking easily to Sheriff Keller and Kevin, and even a little to Joaquin. It ended up not being awkward at all; even when Bryn and Alice served everyone fully assembled plates of food directly from the kitchen, it turned into an opportunity for teasing instead of a weird time of some people waiting on the others.

People were already joking about having all of the cooking teams do that, and Alice had seemed very pleased to be drawn into the teasing camaraderie.

Alice wasn't making eye contact with Jughead, so she definitely had not been involved in the RSVP decision, but that was actually okay. Mary Andrews had said that Jughead should continue to keep his distance, and while being polite and basically social was fine, long conversations - particularly any private ones - could still lead to potential problems. Jughead had objected to the idea that he could be secretly recorded or that Alice might just make stuff up, but his dad had simply pointed out that he hadn't seen the article coming either.

So it was better just to avoid the temptation to speak altogether too freely that always seemed to come when Jughead and Alice had one of their conversations.

Betty seemed to be noticing Alice, too, and while she had a lot more respect and patience for her since reading the article (oddly enough, since almost nobody else had shared that reaction to the article until the interview - when he and Brand had basically sanctioned it), Jughead didn't want to give her any reason to feel weird during the vacation.

There had been some speculation about Alice having feelings for him - a crush or whatever - after the article was published. Jughead figured it was natural for people to wonder that, since it was hard to explain how intense a friendship could be after stuff like that had occurred. They were bonded in a strange way, and he was beginning to wonder if that bond might even be permanent... but it was in no way romantic.

And, in spite of Brand's insistence on calling the article a 'love letter' or his dad's cautions that Jughead could only speak for himself - accompanied by a _super _awkward story about some girl in highschool who had basically thrown herself at FP years ago - Jughead was pretty sure that was the case for both of them.

Betty likely understood all of that really well, too. Their own relationship had shifted into a more intense realm since she'd helped Brand rescue him from drowning. Although that actually seemed to have been even more of a bonding experience for Betty and Brand, since they'd been the ones working together under extreme pressure.

Even now, over dinner, Betty and Brand were talking and laughing so much that Jughead wondered if Veronica was feeling a little left out. Archie was talking to Veronica, at least from time to time. But that whole situation still looked really weird. Jughead was definitely going to be asking about it as soon as they went up to their room for the night.

There was tiramisu for dessert, and Bryn and Alice brought fancy dessert plates out of the kitchen and delivered those to each person with a playful flourish. Jughead smiled in thanks when Bryn placed one in front of him. He hadn't met her before today, and he was more than a little curious about Alice's mother. She'd divorced Daniel, which seemed like it should mean she wasn't all bad, but then she'd begun advocating for him in the court case, so it was confusing.

Despite working for _The_ _Register_, Bryn's opinions on Jughead and Daniel had not been featured in any articles - only Alice's had, with the interview and then the tell-all article - so her position was not as clearly defined as her daughter's.

Now more than ever, Jughead really wished he could meet people without all of the public information, connections, and history between them - or between their relatives and friends - and instead that he could just get to know the people themselves.

Everyone complimented the dessert, and Jughead was suddenly glad that things had played out this way for the cooking rotation; he and Brand hadn't planned anything as nice as this. Now they would have the time and opportunity to prepare a dessert as well as dinner, and Jughead already had a few ideas.

Jughead noticed Brand saying something to his dad, who sniffed his dessert and then handed it over to Brand to eat. Jughead hadn't been thinking about whether it had been prepared with alcohol, but come to think of it there was a _really_ strong aftertaste. He was glad that Brand was watching out for his dad; he'd missed that entirely.

"Kid, are you overtired or something?" Brand was suddenly right in front of him.

"Huh?" Jughead looked around. Everyone else had finished dessert and left the table. He wondered when that had happened.

Then the room started to tilt.

"Whoa," Brand grabbed his shoulders and began supporting him in the chair. "Are you dizzy? Are you getting sick?"

Jughead realized that he _was _kind of numb. He actually felt a lot like he had after the interview, when he'd been lying on his dad's bed in the hotel room and trying to wrap his head around the crazy reality of appearing on live television to try and win over the American public.

"Hey, talk to me." Brand looked worried when he grabbed his chin to bring his gaze up.

Jughead suddenly felt like he might be sick, but he was still numb; he couldn't get his body to lean forward. He felt himself start to choke.

"Oh, great." Brand picked him up and the choking feeling got worse as he fell back into Brand's arms.

The hallway flashed past, and Jughead wondered vaguely when his room had been repainted.

"If you get sick in my bathroom, we can figure it out without keeping Andrews awake all night," Brand was still talking to him, but Jughead could tell that he'd missed some of the conversation. "Can you tell me what's wrong?"

Jughead tried to look around at Brand's bathroom, but his head felt too heavy.

"Did you take something?" Brand sounded angry now. He was positioning them both in front of the toilet.

Jughead wanted to shake his head no, but he was finally getting sick in earnest and that didn't seem like a good combination. Brand's arm became tighter around his ribs and one hand was suddenly pulling his hair since he couldn't hold his head up; his godfather was holding him in place over the toilet like he was a rag doll. It made everything more painful, and it was sharply embarrassing to suddenly be so weak that he couldn't even be sick properly.

"Yeah, get it all out. So much for dinner. You are _very_ sensitive to drugs, kid. You cannot take things if you don't know all of the active ingredients. Did you take something for the flight without telling anyone?"

Jughead really wanted to defend himself, but he could barely understand Brand, let alone try to respond between bouts of vomiting. Brand physically holding him up over the toilet was all manner of awkward, too, and the pressure on his ribs felt like it was making him even sicker.

"What's going on?" Great, his dad had come upstairs. He'd probably think he was on drugs recreationally too.

"Either he took something or he's very sick," Brand said.

"Great timing." FP sighed, but then apparently decided to look on the bright side: "We're lucky this didn't happen on the plane. Or in the car."

At least it didn't sound like his dad thought he'd taken anything.

"He's really out of it." Brand's tone was concerned. "He can't even hold himself up."

"When he's… done… let's get him to bed and see how it goes. I'll sit with him," FP said. He sounded perturbed but decisive.

"He was vomiting in a position where he was going to choke," Brand warned.

"I'll treat him like he's blind stinking drunk," FP assured him with dark humor. "I know the drill."

Jughead really wanted to object to that. But he was retching again.

**00000**

**It never fails. The moment vacation begins, like clockwork, someone gets sick. Right?**

**I hope you enjoyed! The sprawling continues, but I think it's clear we'll have movement in Michigan. I'll look forward to any and all reviews as I spend chapter fourteen herding all of the characters through a super fun vacation (yay!). I hope you're having a wonderful weekend! :)**

**-Button**


	14. Chapter 14

**Heyyy, another chapter!**

**Thanks for the review, Skyrider45 (and the update! :). It makes me so happy that you're feeling it with the setting, and the reunion of all the friends and families. The joy of it all! And hearing that the Brand/FP tiramisu moment connected was fantastic; I love that gradual shift happening between them, and I'm glad that's resonating for you also! :) You made me laugh with "there goes Jughead again" because he really doesn't make it far, huh? And I agree: Bryn's not looking great this time around.**

**Thank you for the (very) generous review, Living Lucid Dream! Jughead is still himself (but yeah, poor FP confronting the question "is he a different person now?"), and getting out of crisis mode is a little scary - the "leavings of war" may not be what FP expects, and it's easier to ignore that during a crisis and say "he's alive; that's enough." Archie/Veronica are actually more complicated than I thought. I'm eager to see that play out too. Jug/Alice have an arc. I was not sure of that at all in AWP, but it's looking likely. They (and I) are fighting any possibility that it's just romantic attraction and then fallout; they've been through too much and they're too smart (I think). It's messy, though, and Brand and FP are not lecturing Jug for nothing. Yay for FP and Brand's interactions developing! I'm so glad you liked that moment. :-D FP is determined, and Brand's got his military-whatever background so he's seen alcohol in action. Bryn is looking awfully sketchy, yes... nice connection to BCBC, and good eye for detail. We'll have to see how it plays out...**

**Guest, thank you also for your kind review! I'm not sure this chapter will clarify much, but we've got a lot of players in view, and they're starting to bump into one another. :) I also loved that you used the phrase "need to know" about the Archie/Veronica tension. That has been such a slow burn, and I totally agree. It may not be solved right away, but everyone's taking notice and it's getting awkward. Great theories about Jughead getting so sick, too! :)**

**Enjoy!**

**-Button**

**00000**

Jughead woke up the next morning in his dad's bed. FP was awake, but he was sacked out in a leather recliner next to the bed since the room he was sharing with Brand was apparently fancy like that.

"Still feeling sick?"

"Ungh," Jughead groaned painfully. "I think I'm hungover. Can that happen from tiramisu? Do I have a disease? Or did you give me that anti-drunk stuff, like, prophylactically?" Jughead was not fully awake and heard himself rambling as he tried to piece together his thoughts and figure out what had happened.

"_What_?"

"Antabuse." That was the stuff. "You've never heard of it?"

"Why on _earth_ would I give you that?" FP's tone had transitioned remarkably quickly from concerned to confused - and then to angry.

Jughead froze. He was still groggy, and his pounding headache made it hard to think clearly. Apparently the idea that addiction could be genetic - that he might be predisposed - did not mean that his dad would drug him. Obviously.

"Never mind."

"And why _exactly_ would you be sick from alcohol and Antabuse if I only gave you the Antabuse?"

"I _said_ never mind; I was thinking of dessert last night. I'm still half asleep. I can't be held responsible-,"

"Too late, boy." His dad was way too upset for this early in the morning. Or whatever time it was.

"When would I have gotten alcohol? _How_ would I have gotten it?" Jughead was feeling very unfairly maligned. And hungover.

"Brandon seems willing to give you whatever you want."

"Now you sound like Archie." Jughead rolled over on the bed. He still had his shoes on. Man, he could smell himself, too. "Do you want to trade beds for the week? I think I may have ruined this one permanently."

"Oh, no. You are not rooming with Brandon. Not after this." FP glowered.

"He didn't do anything. _Please_ don't accuse him of giving me anything." Jughead suddenly had visions of the entire vacation being ruined.

"I'll talk to him. No accusations will be made."

"Okay." Jughead looked over toward Brand's side of the room. His sunglasses were on the bedside table. "Can you ask him about borrowing his sunglasses? Just for a little while?"

"Yeah," FP sighed. "I'll get you some hangover food too." Jughead opened his mouth to object again, but his dad kept talking. "Regardless of what did or did not happen, that's what this looks like to me and it's what you seem to be describing. Sit tight."

A little while later, Brand came in with a plate of waffles and a glass of water. "Your dad did not accuse me of anything. Per your request."

"Good," Jughead sat all the way up with a groan.

"Andrews made a real snappy comment about breakfast in bed. I think he's upset that you didn't bunk in with him last night."

"Oh, great," Jughead wanted to roll his eyes, but that sounded too painful to be worth it. "You told him I was sick?"

"I didn't know what to tell him, Jones. _Are_ you sick?" Brand looked at him curiously. "Your dad sent me up here with what he referred to as 'hangover food,' and very specifically did _not_ accuse me of liquoring you up, so I've got some questions now."

"I think it was dessert. The alcohol in it." Jughead was only more aggrieved to hear that Brand still suspected him of inflicting this on himself.

"Have you ever had cough syrup?"

"Uh, yeah."

"Then it wasn't dessert. That sort of reaction is something you'd notice." Brand frowned. "Dramamine? For the flight? You do have really bizarre reactions sometimes."

"No. I really, truly, honestly didn't take _anything_," Jughead wasn't sure why nobody believed him. Unless that was about the sleeping pills a couple of weeks back. He hadn't gotten himself trashed on those, though. Not really.

"We're going out diving the day after tomorrow, as long as the weather holds. You'll need to rest up if you're going to be good to go." Brand seemed ready to let the subject drop.

"I will," Jughead promised, horrified at the thought that he might miss out on diving after all of his careful planning. "Can I borrow your sunglasses, just for today?"

"Sure, kid," Brand went over to retrieve them. "And after you eat and take a shower, _please_ go talk to Andrews so he'll stop bugging me with his snark. I'll string up a few hammocks; you can read or something if you're not up to taking the kayaks out with the rest of us."

Jughead had not been overly nauseated since waking up, but the mention of kayaking made him pretty sure that he could be if he wasn't careful.

"Stay on your dad's bed until you go back to your room," Brand warned, apparently sensing the nausea rising back up. "You reek. And I don't need to see those waffles a second time."

Jughead recalled more of the previous evening as he pulled off a piece of waffle and chewed it thoughtfully. "Hey, Brand?"

"Yeah, kid?"

"Thanks for telling my dad about dessert last night."

"I just wanted another piece," Brand smirked. Then his smirk faded and he walked over to stand in front of Jughead. "Don't make me have to do that for you."

"I didn't take anything, Brand. And I didn't have any alcohol except what was in the dessert."

"Just don't." Brand slid his sunglasses onto Jughead's face, this time bringing them to rest in their proper place. He tousled Jughead's hair, leaving his hand on his head for a few moments afterward.

"That would be a lot of dessert, even for me." Brand gave Jughead a quick tap on the forehead for emphasis before he left the room.

Jughead sighed and dug into his breakfast. At least the vacation was bound to improve from here.

**00000**

Alice had declined to go out with the group to kayak. Even Joaquin had not been able to resist the gorgeous weather, so it looked like she'd pretty much have the run of the property for a few hours.

There were hammocks, and her mother had mentioned needing to make a few work phone calls this morning. It was a promising combination, and Alice retrieved her new book while everyone else prepared to go out on the water.

She walked past Archie and Jughead's room on the way to her own, and heard them sniping at each other about something. Archie clearly hadn't anticipated the bite back that he was getting, though. He started backpedaling something fierce, and Jughead wasn't giving an inch; he sounded _torqued_. It made Alice smile as she entered her own room and started rummaging through her suitcase. She didn't mind Archie, but in her opinion he got away with too much.

Her mother had taken the phone into their shared bathroom, and Alice realized that her sunscreen was in there as well. She went over to listen at the door; if there was a natural lull in the work call, she could be in and out in just a few seconds.

"'Docile' was not the word. More like roofied, but with projectile vomiting," Bryn's voice was quiet, and her words did not make sense, but it sounded serious enough that an interruption would not be welcome. Alice sighed and turned to leave with her book.

The hammocks should be in the shade anyway, if they were hung between trees. She'd make do.

**00000**

Jughead only remembered after Archie had left that he'd meant to ask about Veronica. Archie had been really upset about Jughead disappearing on him the previous night, and particularly objected to him 'not bothering to explain' once he'd realized he was sick.

It would probably have sounded like a gross (very gross) exaggeration if Jughead had tried explaining precisely why that had not been possible. He'd left it at "I was _really _sick and basically passed out after Brand _carried _me to bed." Even so, Archie's expression had only darkened further, as if that sounded like more 'bonding' with Brand and not a horrifying necessity.

Because the fact that Jughead had spent the night in his dad's room - with Brand - apparently made the whole thing even more offensive. Archie had thought this vacation was time they'd finally get to spend together, yada yada, and he didn't want Jughead to 'go off with Brand' the whole time.

As if Jughead hadn't been _exiled_ to 'go off with Brand' for the last month.

Then Archie had tried to pull some Jedi mind crap and make Jughead parrot back his marching orders for the week. Something about actually talking to each other and catching up in a real way. Which was what Jughead wanted, and not in any way unreasonable.

But Archie had made it clear that he would not be satisfied until Jughead literally repeated his words back to him.

And Jughead had snapped.

Honestly, if this was the problem with Veronica - this controlling and dominating behavior - then Jughead wasn't sure he'd be able to help. It was setting him off even more than it was bothering Veronica, if this morning was any indication. Archie might just have to face some consequences. Because he needed to back the hell off and _never_ try something like that on him again.

Jughead might still be a little upset. The lingering hangover symptoms certainly weren't helping him calm down.

But when Archie had gotten in his face and used his size when he demanded - slowly, like Jughead was stupid - that Jughead say back exactly what he had literally just agreed to… well, it had felt like he was squaring off with Brand at his godfather's absolute worst. Which had historically been when he'd thought Jughead was going to end up maimed or dead without some form of serious intervention. Whereas Archie was just trying to push him around for the pleasure of seeing him toe the line.

Not that Jughead had been that rational in his thought process at the time. It was basically just an overwhelming sense that he could take Archie apart any time he felt like it, and his friend should _really_ start taking that seriously.

Which was not disturbing in the slightest.

And then he'd come back at Archie verbally. That had not been one of his shining moments.

"Or _what_?" Jughead had leaned into Archie's aggressive posture. "A lot of people have forced me to do a lot of things, Archie. Do you want to know what they had to do to keep me from _killing_ them for that?"

Archie had been satisfyingly horrified by that perspective on his behavior and backtracked almost comically. And then he left to kayak with everyone.

And now Jughead felt like he'd really overdone it - and at the same time his body was still humming with tension like he should have done even more.

Anger was confusing.

**00000**

Alice was lying in a hammock when Jonas - Jughead; man, it was hard to change names in her head - flopped into one a few yards away, armed with a book and a large water bottle. There were not a lot of tree pairings that lent themselves to the hammocks being set up, so they were all clustered together here, with a clear view of the water. And apparently Jughead did not have a clear view of who was in this particular hammock.

He'd definitely been avoiding her. Not that she'd sought _him_ out. But still.

It was actually really weird that Jughead hadn't gone kayaking with everyone else. He'd been almost manic in his many Emails, if the one she'd received - likely by mistake, but it had the whole chain of correspondence right there, so she'd been quickly brought up to speed - was any indication. She'd assumed he'd be doing every activity possible at all times.

"Get yourself grounded?" Alice decided to break the silence between them. Worst case scenario, he ignored her. She'd learned enough to know that any response at all was officially not the worst outcome.

Jughead nearly fell out of his hammock, which was objectively hilarious to watch.

"Mocking the afflicted? Really?" Jughead responded to Alice's laughter even as he managed to get one hand on the ground before he was dumped from the hammock and shifted himself more securely into a position where he could see Alice better. He was wearing Agent Davies' sunglasses yet again, even though both hammocks were in the shade.

"Your grace inspires me. I'll probably take up ballet any day now," Alice smirked. "Seriously, though, why aren't you kayaking?"

"I got sick last night," Jughead was realizing that Brand must have gotten to him quickly. Archie hadn't known what had happened, and Alice obviously had no clue about it either. "I'm still not feeling great, and I want to be in fighting shape for wreck diving. So I'm here." Jughead held up a book.

"No way!" Alice held up the same book. "Have you read any yet?" It had been released the previous week.

"Just the first few chapters," Jughead had seemed reluctant to talk, surprise surprise, but his expression opened up eagerly now. "The structure is…" He trailed off, shaking his head with an awed expression.

Apparently they were going to pretend the article had never happened. That Alice hadn't had a poorly-edited rambling narrative go to every major news outlet dishing on his interactions with her in Toronto. One that Jughead later said was fine on live television - claimed was cool - and basically lied through his teeth about in order to save her butt from the vultures.

She could live with ignoring all of that. At least for the moment.

"Oh my god, yes. It should be distracting, but it's, like, distractingly brilliant," Alice smiled, happy to focus on the best book she'd read this year. "_Nobody_ writes this well. Even this guy never writes this well. It's insane how good it is already. I'm only on the fourth chapter, so no spoilers."

"Right there with you," Jughead was smiling as well. "It makes me feel like there's a reason to write. This right here," Jughead thumped the book, "is the goal."

"You think you'll write something this brilliant?" Alice smirked again. She might owe him big time for his support during the televised interview, but that would never mean she'd stop teasing him. "That just figures. I'm ready to learn from the master, so be sure you write a how-to book somewhere in there."

Jughead's eyebrows quirked above the sunglasses, and then he was smirking back.

"Are those sunglasses your signature look?" Alice decided to comment. It was getting weird, though not quite as weird as his Shakespeare obsession.

"I have a headache," Jughead explained. "Brand loaned them to me."

"He should just give them to you. They look better on you anyway." Alice was lying, but it was a white lie. It was hard for anything _not_ to look fantastic on Agent Davies, who looked like a military recruitment poster, but with a better haircut. The sunglasses were a little too big for Jughead and made him look young. "Are you really sick, then?"

"As in _actually_ sick? Or _severely_ sick?" Jughead's tone darkened a bit.

"I'm thinking you aren't faking," Alice shot him a weird look. "You're pretty much the ultimate booster for vacation-related activities. How sick _are_ you?"

"Last night was pretty bad." Jughead looked away, toward the lake. "I'm thinking I'll try avoiding that ever happening again."

"Yuck. But hopefully it wasn't like you were... roofied and projectile vomiting," Alice heard her mother's words come out of her mouth and wanted to cringe. Whatever her mother had been talking about, her phrasing sounded downright creepy in this context.

"Brand needs to keep his big mouth shut," Jughead shot her a startled look and his tone was suddenly very defensive.

Oh, wow. Alice wasn't sure what to say in response to that, and the conversation came to a halt.

"What are you reading?" Both teens were surprised by Mary Andrews approaching. She took the hammock strung between them. There really hadn't been a lot of great places for them, by all appearances. "It's gorgeous out, isn't it? Perfect for a good beach read."

Alice's expression darkened. Clearly she wasn't trusted to have even a simple conversation with Jughead.

Jughead settled back in his hammock so that he couldn't be seen and simply held the book above the fabric in response. Clearly his dad and Brand didn't trust him to be left alone while they kayaked.

"You both brought the same book? Well, now I feel left out; why wasn't that in one of the memos, Jughead?" Mrs. Andrews adopted a teasing tone now. "I've just got a romance novel. You'll have to let me know what you both think of yours. We could have a regular book club this week."

Neither teen responded. Mrs. Andrews didn't seem to mind; in fact, she probably preferred it that way.

They all settled into silence and opened their books.

**00000**

Betty was having a fantastic time on the water. Brand had explained earlier that Jughead wasn't feeling well and wanted to rest up for the diving they'd be doing in a couple of days, so Betty had offered to help him put up the hammocks for those opting not to kayak. It had taken a little exploring to find a spot where the trees were arranged at a convenient distance from one another for tying them up, but after that it was easy - and really a two-person job, so Brand had been grateful for the help and offered to share a kayak with her to return the favor. He'd suggested that she'd have a really relaxing outing with him doing most of the paddling.

He hadn't been kidding.

Betty waved to Veronica as their kayak rounded a point and they were about to lose sight of Archie and Veronica behind them. Those two were moving a lot more slowly and seemed to be having trouble finding a comfortable rhythm that kept them moving forward. Veronica's wave back seemed resigned and a little stiff.

"Andrews is gonna lose her if he doesn't look alive," Brand commented, observing the exchange as he steered them swiftly toward a reedy area that was likely to be teeming with wildlife. "There's a loon; got the camera ready?"

Brand had borrowed Jughead's camera and given Betty a brief overview of its settings. She was no stranger to photography and had caught on quickly to its particulars. Betty thought it was really sweet that Brand wanted to bring photos back for Jughead, too, and was enjoying the project of capturing the full experience for him. She zoomed in to get a few shots of the loon, and then zoomed back out to get one of Brand; he flipped the paddle toward her and droplets of water caught the light as he smirked.

"Wildlife, Cooper. Jones doesn't want to see me sweating out here."

"Oh, you're wildlife too, Brand," Betty countered. "And I'm guessing that Jughead would back me up on that."

Brand laughed good-naturedly. "You are something else, Cooper. And hey, maybe you can do me a favor and tame Andrews back into being the well-adjusted one."

"The what?" Betty gave him a confused look, but then a large snapping turtle caught her eye and she pointed. Brand dropped a paddle into the water and they slowed and the kayak turned toward the huge turtle. Betty took a few shots before it dove.

"The well-adjusted one. You know, as opposed to Jones, who is anything but," Brand started steering them back out into the lake again when the wake of a larger boat neared the kayak. They slid over it easily once they were angled properly. "I'd like Andrews to get back to that. It's a lot less hassle that way."

"Awww, you care," Betty smiled beatifically when he glared. "I won't tell anyone; don't worry. And I think Veronica's the problem, actually."

"Then you're blind."

Betty laughed and lifted the camera quickly when the sound startled a bird into flight. "We're missing the wildlife, Brand. And she's been cancelling social things left and right. I think she's taken on too much, maybe even on purpose, and she's shutting everyone out. Archie most of all."

"Then why is she here? On vacation with everyone she's supposedly avoiding?" Brand suddenly leaned forward and reached for the camera. "There is a bald eagle up there. I've got this one."

Betty handed the camera over, looking up to admire the large bird that was a distance away - but clearly visible in the tree now that it had been pointed out to her.

"This place is amazing."

"Oh look, more deer for you," Brand smirked and pointed, and then returned to shooting the eagle as they drifted a little closer to it.

Betty smiled when she spotted two fawns in the herd of deer picking their way along the lake's edge. "Get a shot of them. They're cute."

"They're a scourge." Brand took a couple of shots of the herd, though. He whipped the camera back up when the eagle took flight and had a satisfied grin by the time it had flown out of sight. "Jones is gonna get a framed print if any of those came out like I think they did."

Betty shook her head with a smile, wondering for a moment how Jughead _didn't_ see that he was being spoiled by his godfather.

"I'm not sure why Veronica came," Betty responded to Brand's earlier question. "Maybe it was one more thing on the to-do list. Or maybe she's starting to actually worry about it as well. It's possible she can't pull out of things now that she's overcommitted. We obviously haven't had a chance to talk about this, so I'm not sure."

"How do you get 'overcommitted' as a highschool sophomore?" Brand sounded amused. He handed the camera back to Betty and began paddling them more speedily out into the lake. "Let's check out the area by that long dock. It looks promising."

"Rising junior," Betty corrected.

"My apologies, ma'am; it won't happen again." Brand looked even more amused. "But _rising_ _juniors_ still should not be able to overcommit. You just do your homework and show up."

"You are from another time," Betty rolled her eyes. "Jughead's clearly never explained this to you."

Brand was skeptical, but Betty tried her best to explain how complicated highschool and the college application process was.

Betty was still explaining twenty minutes later.

It was actually starting to stress her out, just thinking about it. "...So _then_ you'd basically be perfect on paper, but no top college is going to offer you a spot unless you're incredibly lucky. Forget about scholarships."

"Cooper, you have given this way too much thought."

"Not as much as I think Veronica has." Betty shot Brand a meaningful look. "Jughead's probably worried about all of this, too, and he's really behind. He passed his finals, but he's going to need really good grades - and something to replace _The Blue and Gold_ as an extracurricular."

"How does Andrews get around all that?" Brand started to slow the kayak again as they approached another reedy area and this time he steered them right into the tall plants.

"Sports."

"Jones could do that."

Betty didn't laugh because she was photographing a small snake that was nestled in the leaves that were now surrounding their kayak. She grinned in amusement, though, and raised an eyebrow at Brandon.

"He's an athlete," Brand protested her reaction.

Betty straightened back up once she was sure she had gotten a good shot of the snake. She took a photo of Brand as they navigated the tall, dramatic reeds, and he reached for the camera so he could get some shots of her as well. This was a great backdrop.

"He's an athlete, but not a jock. Team sports are not Jughead's thing. Maybe martial arts, but are there... Krav scholarships?"

"Maybe." It was worth looking into. "He's thinking about an internship. How much would that help?"

"He is?" Betty was surprised; this had not yet come up with Jughead. "I'm interning with _The Register_ because I think it's a good move. I thought he needed a job, though."

"Paid internship," Brand explained.

"Nope. Those are really hard to get," Betty dismissed the idea. "He won't be able to compete with the college students. I'll help him find some less competitive ones if he wants, but anything he gets probably won't be paid. Or not paid enough to even cover gas getting there and back."

"No, he's got this one in the bag," Brand corrected. "I'm setting it up. He'll intern with the FBI or something; I'm still calling in favors, so it's not set in stone yet what he'd be doing."

Betty sat up straight in the kayak. She had an odd look on her face and was silent for a few moments before she replied. "Brandon... if you can do that, then I'm not sure why you're asking me how to help Jughead get into college."

"I take it an internship will help?"

"Uh, yeah," Betty gave him a look. "An admissions essay about… everything… and then an internship with the _FBI_? Harvard will probably send a car and driver to pick up his stuff. And a reporter for the alumni newsletter."

"Good." Brand nodded once, pleased. "What else should I be working on? Grades, obviously, but that's a given. He should have scholarships too; how do I get him some of those? He's smarter than those other Ivy League kids, and anything he doesn't use from his college fund will come in handy later."

Betty's jaw dropped. "Jughead really doesn't get it. He's clueless."

"Yes, he is." Brand smirked. "About what specifically, though?"

"How much you really are his fairy godfather."

Brand's expression of pure horror made Betty laugh so hard that a doe startled them both when it leapt away through the reeds in the shallow water.

**00000**

Roy was pretty sure that the current situation was his own darn fault.

He'd left the specially-routed warning message for Brand, though he knew that location was checked very infrequently. An incident would prompt Brand to look there, and Roy had quickly come up with a plan for spooking Brand into believing there was a very real threat. It was all workable.

But then the idiot with the dog called back, and Roy had spotted an even easier route. He could get paid by his own fall guy (a delicious twist) because the idiot had apparently taken Roy's attempt at dissuading him as a challenge: he had secured a motivated insider at the lodge and worked from there. And so, instead of enacting his own plan, Roy would be able to use a very light touch. Everything would be accomplished - and without anyone posing as FBI, which was a large part of the unbelievably stupid plan that the idiot with the dog had come up with.

Roy knew how to hit Brand's panic button subtly but effectively: the kid had some odd drug reactions, and the symptoms were absolutely unmissable. It would have Brand packing his bags and checking his messages. Simple. In and out.

Roy probably should have been more worried about Bryn's mental stability when she believed him so readily that a very low-dose "trial run" was industry standard. More fool him. She'd completely destroyed his careful timeline. There had been 'a golden opportunity,' she'd explained blithely over the phone, never considering the fact that her insane timing severely limited the list of suspects since any outsiders would not realistically have had time to get in position.

And okay, she'd expected nobody to notice a drowsy, uncoordinated teenager, and had no clue about the dramatic symptoms that Roy had been anticipating - and counting on. But still.

Roy was surrounded by morons.

Unless Bryn was a double agent. It was possible, and one massive inconsistency made Roy nervous that it might even be _likely_: Bryn's description of Jones' reaction sounded perfectly in keeping with what Roy expected from the drugs - but the Brand _he_ knew would have stuffed the kid in the trunk of his car and gotten out of that house as soon as possible. Jones would have been on total lockdown (and probably duct taped, handcuffed, or both) from the word go.

It was very strange. But there was another possible explanation: Jones might not be the paragon of virtue that Brand had always described so proudly. If the kid was harder to handle than Brand wanted to admit (and admitting that to Rose, just for instance, would not end well), then maybe Jones' response to the drug had been indistinguishable from a particularly ill-timed bender.

That would certainly explain why they were all still on vacation, and - according to Bryn - had not even called a doctor.

That would also mean that Roy needed to think things through. Again.

If the idiot's plan - and Roy's doctored management of it to tip Brand off and spook his old friend into reconnecting - was too subtle, thanks to Jones being a stupid teenager and Brand being less paranoid than he'd once been, then Roy would need to arrange something a _lot_ more obvious.

Because his fall guy had to actually fall.

Roy had sent Brand a warning, after all. The idiot knew his name. In any he-said-he-said scenario, the fact that Roy knew about Jones' drug reaction would look damning instead of coincidental. All of that meant that he could very easily wind up in the line of fire if there was angry lashing out at any point.

And everyone knew that was one of Brand's specialties.

**00000**

**What's all this? SATs, college apps, scholarships? And oh, Brand... dear, sweet Brand... He doesn't get to be the innocent/naive one often, but that was fun. :-D **

**Also: with Roy in particular this is definitely one of those moments when the plot goes twisty (yay!) and it will be helpful if you let me know if it's making sense - or if it's not. We've got a LOT of threats in existence, and now some are bumping into each other (I'm actually really loving that, which may be a VERY bad sign for the clarity of the plot), so I want to be sure things are making sense as we head (ever closer!) to collision. :)**

**I hope you enjoyed, I hope you'll leave a review - and I hope you're having a lovely week!**

**-Button**


	15. Chapter 15

**Chapter Fifteen is brought to you by... the most generous reviews ever. Thank you so much! :-D**

**Skyrider45, thank you in particular for your bullet point list of where we currently are in terms of threats and threads! I also _really_ appreciated your asking about predictions, because I do think that getting those from wonderful, engaged readers might make me freeze up(!). I've finally got a very clear sense of the trajectory of this story (finally! FINALLY!), and while the characters reserve the right to screw with me (cough-ROY-cough), I do think it would be very hard to navigate the waters with specific plot ideas from other writers in there as well (though I do enjoy the guesses and predictions on a smaller scale very much!). That is super generous, though, and on another occasion I might take you up on it. :-D Thank you also, very very much, for the reassurance that I'm not moving too slowly through the plot (unless you were saying I could write/post more slowly? It's probably a bad sign that I'm not 100% sure... :-D). I've been enjoying smelling the roses (roses everywhere!) with the characters. Anyway, you've reassured me (intentionally or otherwise! :-D), and that is _super_ nice. Thank you again! I also love your suspicions, from Jug and Betty's competing (projecting) narratives regarding Archie and Veronica to Brand's motives for Jug to the theories on how the three-part treachery of Russell-Roy-Bryn could play out. And the kayaking scene was one of my all-time favorite ones to write, for so many reasons - primarily because the Betty/Brand dynamic makes me happy too (I love your tall reeds observation!). And this story just plain has my heart. :-D**

**Living Lucid Dream, all the flourishing bows belong to YOU this time - world record review lengths make me feel like it's my birthday! I really loved that you keyed in to FP and Brand shifting (not always logically) in how they respond to issues arising with Jug, and the way Roy underscored that. I also adored your strong reaction to Jug/Archie fighting - because that was fun to write (without writing it, in a way, since that was all secondhand), and I've been waiting for Jug to go there since DIAV. Alice is positioned both well (info!) and horribly (um, yikes?) - I'm not sure which way that's going to tip either. And yes, Veronica/Archie are shaping up for complexity, and Brand is not quiiiite out of the woods on his motives. I am actually having a blast right now trying to think through what Brand's ideal trajectory would be for Jug if Rose was not in the picture... :-D (FP might have even MORE objections... just an instinct...) Thank you for the Roy love! I was nervous about Roy getting POV (and using it! Actual info was shared!), so that was my number one rewrite spot last chapter.**

**Guest, thank you for another generous and encouraging review! I read your reflections and thought: yes, EXACTLY, on all counts. You caught all of my perceived plot highlights, from Roy reminding us of early-days Brand (and being a wild card in part because he's got outdated information!) to the ramifications of the waters getting muddied over whether Jug took something (and whose responsibility it is to figure that out and and take action), to Archie being WAY out of line (Jug can take it down a notch, but he had my sympathies more than Archie there), to Team Alice (yay!). You are so welcome, too. There is something about your thanks that makes me incredibly happy, so right back at you: thank you again for the kind review! :)**

**Enjoy!**

**-Button**

**00000**

Fred wasn't sure why he was laughing so hard. None of it was funny, really. He knew that.

And yet.

"You are going to tip this kayak over, Fred." FP was not laughing.

"FP, he's just - he's his father's son. You do know that, right?"

"If you're talking about the drinking-," FP's nostrils flared as he geared up to defend himself and his offspring.

"No. I am actually _not_ talking about the drinking that Jughead is so clueless about that he thinks you'd surreptitiously slip him a drug that has literally killed people." Fred wasn't sure if he was cackling, but it had to be close if he was not.

"I'm talking about the fact that he almost certainly got food poisoning from ice cream - a notorious vector for that - on _exactly_ the time course you'd expect," Fred almost could not continue because it was just so ridiculous, "and yet you stayed up last night debating with Brandon Davies whether _Jughead_ of all people took illicit drugs, whether he was the target of some sort of attack within hours of our plane touching down in northern Michigan, and - I can only hope unrelated to all of the above - whether the _logical response_ was to sign him up for gene sequencing."

Fred had to admit that FP had a point about the kayak being tippy when he was laughing so hard and twisting around to look back at his friend; he leaned forward and braced his paddle against the kayak in an attempt to steady the rocking.

"That was Davies. It was late. And I already told you that I talked him down from all of that." FP was thoroughly regretting trying to get some perspective from Fred on the events of the previous evening - and earlier that morning.

"You have lost your minds. And Jughead is right behind you. Mind you, he's _only_ behind because you and Brandon are so far around the bend." Fred was not sure he was going to be able to stop laughing. "I thought you were bad when we were in New York, but apparently you _all_ need to take a step back and really appreciate how insane you sound. Jughead actually asked if you'd drugged him without his knowledge? With something that could be _lethal_ if he so much as kicked back a few Jell-O shots or anything else he could get down in a hurry?"

FP felt his chest tighten just thinking about that. He might need to have a talk with Davies in case the man had gotten any stupid ideas from this whole incident.

"And Brandon carries scans of his medical records on his _laptop_? That's not even funny, I know that - but it's _hilarious _that you're so shocked - and honestly, you have to hand it to the man. He is nothing if not thorough."

Fred had to gasp for breath when this all struck him as even funnier as FP's expression darkened all over again. "Come on, FP. You've been talking conspiracy theories for a while now. Brandon probably has detailed plans in case of aliens, zombies, or the sun going dark. You really can't hold it against Jughead that he's finally getting in on the game. And I'm sorry, you _tag teamed_ him with Brandon this morning? Now that I would have paid good money to see."

"There was nothing to see." FP crossed his arms, but immediately uncrossed them again so that he could resume using his paddle to stabilize the kayak. "It's not like we staged an intervention. We just pointed out that hangovers are painful, and that neither of us wants to see-,"

"You _did_ stage an intervention," Fred was starting to get his laughter under control, but he wasn't sure that was going to last for long. "All because you two didn't like it when Jughead thought maybe _he'd_ be the one to come up with a crazy theory for once. So _of course_ you staged a full-on-,"

"Fred, this is not remotely helpful." FP sighed deeply.

"_I know_," Fred lost it again. He could hear his laughter echoing over the lake, and he was sure it was audible on shore; his abdominal muscles were starting to hurt, but it felt like a relief more than anything. "I'm sorry, FP - did you think that I thought any of this was _helpful_? I'm being the worst friend in the world right now, and it honestly feels amazing. I can see why you like doing this to me."

FP's jaw dropped.

Fred took one look at his reaction and wondered if he was actually laughing even harder at his offended expression, or if that was a physical impossibility.

"I mean-," Fred gasped for air again, "-you've got Jughead so far beyond exhausted, you're traveling by plane and car, and then _training_ both in and out of water that could give him hypothermia - for the second time in a month, let's not forget - and when he gets sick his _first_ theory is that you drugged him. The family resemblance, FP-," Fred could not continue past his guffaws.

FP used his kayak paddle to douse Fred with a generous splash of water. "Shut up, Fred."

"I _can't_." Fred positioned his own paddle securely under one arm so that he could wipe away tears of mirth along with lake water.

And just like that, the kayak turned over.

**00000**

FP hadn't wanted the kayak to roll, but it occurred to him that it might be worth the shockingly cold ducking if Fred calmed down and actually gave him some insights that he could work with.

They righted the kayak without much difficulty. They were steadier in the water.

Fred was still chortling.

FP sighed.

"Honestly, it wouldn't be so funny if I wasn't having trouble with Archie, too," Fred confessed as he shook water from his hair and then eyed his sopped clothing. But even this topic did not make him much more sober, and there was laughter in his voice as he explained. "He's doing the opposite. He doesn't think someone's pulling the strings and has a master plan - he thinks nobody is capable of handling their own lives and we're all just bumbling idiots who are screwing up the utopia we could all have if we just listened to him. You would not believe some of what he's said to his mother, let alone to me."

There had been more than one reason why the decision to allow Archie and Jughead to room together had been delayed until the last possible moment. They'd let Jughead believe that it was about his nightmares - giving Archie a break from those if Jughead was not doing better after the major setback of Trigger's disappearance - and they'd let Archie believe that it was about adjusting his attitude.

"Now that right there - I actually know how to deal with that. Want to trade?" FP laughed shortly, and wondered if joining Fred in laughing at everything wrong in their lives was the only workable approach to this conversation.

"And get accused of orchestrating the arrival of junk mail that spells out some message?" Fred snorted. "No thank you. There will be no kid swapping until you get the paranoia in check. Then I might consider it. Because lord knows you've got experience with belligerence and I'm actually capable of going five minutes without issuing Jughead an order."

FP's eyes widened.

"Sorry," Fred finally stopped laughing and took a more conciliatory tone as he tried to soften his impulsive words. "That - it's true, but I don't mean it quite like that. You just… you can't decide that you're done working through things before Jughead's ready to move on. He could easily wind up stuck wherever you abandon him in the recovery process, FP."

FP sighed and massaged his eyes.

"Come on, let me have it - you can lecture me on how inappropriate it is that I'm laughing at all of this, and give me an earful on how badly I'm screwing up with Archie," Fred gestured to himself. "You can feel free to splash me all you want, too. It's already turning into a scorcher of a day, and I can't get wetter than wet."

"Well, you just took all the fun out of it," FP said, and he cracked a reluctant smile. "And I may have gotten lazier about asking questions instead of giving orders to Jug, but things have changed. He disagrees with me now, and he's started pushing for what he wants - in case you haven't noticed -," they both smiled, thinking of the many Emails that Jughead had sent over the past week, "-so we've come a long way. You really think I need to go back to all of that walking on eggshells stuff?"

"I don't know. Maybe. If Jughead really thinks that an unexpected illness means that he's been drugged - and a lack of suspects means that _you're_ on deck for accusations -, then it's likely down to either a profound sense that he lacks control - or garden variety paranoia."

Fred continued when FP seemed to be at a loss for words. "I wouldn't make any decisions today. Take a real vacation, FP. Get some sleep, and for the sake of your own sanity _please_ stop listening to Brandon when he's obsessing."

Fred had been present for a number of planning conversations during the intense time between Alice's article going live and the television interview in New York - and more than one had devolved when Brandon had gotten hold of an idea that he would not let go. "See how things look once you've all gotten a chance to relax for a few days."

They both settled back into their seats in the two-person kayak.

"And hey, maybe Archie and Jughead will sort each other out this week while they're rooming together. Or maybe they'll kill each other. Either way we're off the hook, right?" Fred began to snicker again.

This time FP joined him. "I think you might be onto something there. But just out of curiosity... what exactly did Archie say to Mary?"

"You always did have a sixth sense about the best stories," Fred replied with a grin. "Mary would not appreciate me sharing this, so keep it quiet."

When strains of laughter reached the shore this time, there were two voices blending in raucous amusement.

**00000**

Archie and Veronica got back from kayaking before anyone else. Jughead didn't like the look in Archie's eye, but he also didn't want their friendship damaged or their vacation ruined - whether by his getting sick, Archie's mysterious issue with Veronica, or their fight this morning.

Jughead climbed out of his hammock, leaving his book behind as he moved to intercept his best friend as Archie and Veronica made their way toward the lodge.

"Hey, Archie, want to swim or something?" Jughead had sipped water almost constantly since he'd gotten up, and his dad had been right about the waffles: he was feeling recovered enough to do something more active, and he even felt like he might be more or less back to normal by the time they had lunch. Whatever had made him fall apart the previous evening, becoming so violently ill seemed to have cleared much of it from his system and he was bouncing back quickly.

Archie gave him a look and responded sarcastically: "Nice sunglasses."

"Seriously," Jughead took off Brand's sunglasses, "let's do something. Want to go for a hike?"

Veronica had not even paused to acknowledge Jughead and seemed to be taking advantage of the conversation in order to leave Archie behind as she continued toward the lodge.

"Yeah, okay," Archie hesitated, shooting a look after Veronica, and then eyed him closely. "Where?"

"I don't know. There are trails heading everywhere," Jughead pointed toward one that meandered down toward the water before disappearing into the forest. "We could just pick one."

"And die alone in the woods?"

"Yes, Archie; that's been a lifelong dream and I just _really_ wanted to share it with you." Jughead gave him a frustrated look.

"Well, then, don't let me keep you from it," Archie gestured toward the trail that Jughead had pointed out, and for a moment it looked like this attempt at reconnecting would be unsuccessful. But then Archie added sullenly, "After you."

They weren't ready to be fully civil with each other, but Jughead figured it would only be another ten minutes or so of griping before Archie calmed down. Hopefully he would be willing to talk then.

They hadn't gone far on the trail before they realized that they were walking through tall blueberry bushes. Some of the early berries had ripened, so they picked and ate them as they walked, and when they'd gone just a little further Jughead pointed out their dads kayaking together on the water. The two adults were talking and laughing - and clearly not trying to make a whole lot of progress with their halfhearted paddling.

Archie did seem to be calming down as they walked, and suddenly he sighed heavily. "Jughead... has Betty said anything to you about Veronica?"

"No," Jughead figured this was the beginning of the conversation he'd been wanting to have, "but it's really obvious that something's wrong with you two. You know, you're not the only one I didn't get to spend any time with last night."

Archie looked embarrassed. "Look, I wasn't trying to-,"

"You didn't kidnap and torture me, so let's just leave it that I overreacted massively," Jughead interrupted, feeling too guilty to let Archie attempt another apology. "I'll try not to play the martyr with you in the future, okay?"

"Okay. But, uh, just for the record? That did _not_ come across as 'martyr,' Jug," Archie was relieved and shot an amused look at Jughead's back as they continued walking down the path. "That was more like… grizzled war hero. And scary. You should definitely try that line on Reggie if he gives you any trouble this fall."

"Yeah, no. I'm not sure Riverdale High can handle me threatening to kill Reggie," Jughead snorted. "So, what _is_ the deal with you and Veronica?"

"I... think she might be planning to break up with me." Archie gave Jughead a pained look. "And it's my fault. It's a long story, but basically I thought she was really depressed, and maybe even hurting herself or, like, not eating right."

Archie ran a hand through his hair in agitation. "But then she got so _angry_ when I asked her about stuff. And she's been shutting me out ever since. It's been weeks, Jughead, and I only even brought it up after it had been happening for a while. She's been like this for ages."

Jughead frowned. "What makes you think she's depressed? She's always out doing stuff; she always seems fine."

"It's way too much stuff," Archie tried to explain. "She's busy all the time, and she's been shutting down everything that's not work. Schoolwork, the Vixens, volunteering. Basically if it isn't a job, she won't make time to do it."

"Like she doesn't want to slow down and... think about things, maybe?" Jughead guessed. "You know, she did take that one afternoon off to help me look for Trigger. The day of the article."

"Yeah," Archie shrugged. "I think that was kind of like volunteering. Another job. And then I barely heard from her for days afterward. She kept saying that she was so far behind. It was all more important than spending time with me."

Jughead was quiet as they hiked further. "Do you really think she might be hurting herself?"

"I don't know about that," Archie was reluctant now. "I Googled some stuff. It sort of sounded like people who do too much might also hurt themselves or, like, have an eating disorder. Which she _really_ did not appreciate me asking about, for the record."

"I bet," Jughead winced. "But you were worried. I get it. It's better to ask."

"Maybe," Archie shrugged. "Veronica didn't think so. We fight all the time now. I try so hard to keep things from piling up on her, but she fights me on it constantly - and she keeps getting angrier."

Jughead realized that he could probably shed some light on why that might be. He decided to get the whole story before explaining that Archie's behaviors had started looking scary controlling and manipulative, though. Order of operations.

"She's here, on vacation." Jughead continued leading the way down the trail and it started to widen as it went past a small sandy beach on the lake. They veered toward the water, leaving the trail.

"I really don't know why. She doesn't seem very happy here," Archie sighed. "Does she want to change things and spend some time with me? Is this just one more commitment? Is she only here for Betty?"

Those were all reasonable theories. Veronica would do a lot for her friends. Jughead frowned, thinking through what he'd observed so far. "Well, she kayaked with you this morning. That's got to be a good sign."

Jughead figured he might as well bite the bullet. "Is it possible you've been scaring her by trying too hard to help? Like maybe you've accidentally come across as possessive... or a little controlling... and maybe that's become a new problem, even if Veronica does want things to get better?"

Archie looked _really_ confused.

"Archie. You were literally trying to make me repeat after you this morning," Jughead raised an eyebrow at his obvious confusion. They sat down together on the sand, looking out at the lake. "Is there any chance you've said anything like that to Veronica? I've seen you kind of bug her about her schedule."

"Maybe," Archie was thoughtful. "I mean, Veronica's pushed back on everything I do to try and help. So I've been trying harder to help."

Jughead tried to see their earlier conversation from that perspective. "Were you trying to help when you told me to repeat-,"

"Enough; I get it," Archie rubbed a hand over his eyes, embarrassed. "Yeah, okay. I've maybe done stuff like that with Veronica. And it wasn't cool. I didn't think - I really _was_ just trying to help. I was trying to make it totally clear that I don't expect her to do everything all the time. That I'm _serious _about being here for her."

"Maybe you could try… not trying?" Jughead shrugged. "That sounds stupid. I honestly have no idea, but for what it's worth I do think she must really like you if she hasn't threatened to kill you yet. Because I'm literally your best friend, and I ended up there in like five minutes."

"Yeah, but you're special." Archie smirked.

"Sure am." Jughead stood up and brushed the sand off of his shorts. Archie threw a handful of sand at his legs.

Moments later they had kicked off their sneakers and socks and were both wading in the water, splashing each other energetically and laughing as they invented creative insults.

Jughead felt his cell phone vibrate in his pocket and called for a temporary truce. "Hang on. It's Brand and he will come after us if I don't pick up."

"It's fine, man," Archie motioned for him to answer.

"Brand?" Jughead listened for a moment and then laughed. "Yeah, we'll be back soon. I saw them on the water and I think they're fine too. Just moving slowly. You can stand down."

A few minutes later Jughead and Archie were walking back along the trail.

"You know," Jughead realized that there was one more topic they needed to address, "Brand's leaving after this week. Kind of for good. We'll most likely never spend this kind of time together again," Jughead felt the words heavily in his gut as he spoke them. "I really want this week to be a great time for you and me, but I can't miss having at least some time with Brand too."

"Yeah. I get it. Maybe we can try hanging out - all three of us - and see how it goes." Archie made a face just thinking about the prospect, but then he brightened as he thought about it further. "Do you think we could train on the raft? And get out the rock climbing stuff? I've got some gear of my own back home, so I can show you how to tie the knots and stuff."

Jughead wasn't sure. "That's probably gonna be up to Brand. I'd be up for it, though."

"You have to teach me secret fighting moves so we can gang up on him."

"You do realize that he literally taught me everything I know."

"Well…" Archie considered that. "Teach me some useful stuff, anyway, and we'll just try and take him down good - at least once - by the end of the week."

"Okay." Jughead agreed, figuring this would be entertaining for Archie - and for Brand. "It's a plan."

**00000**

Lunch ended up being more or less a picnic as everyone raided the sandwich supplies that Mary Andrews had set out and took their food outside. Jughead and Archie steered Betty and Veronica down to the dock so that they could eat together and get a little distance from everyone else who had wandered outside.

Archie was clearly trying to relax and give Veronica some space; he didn't ask her what she'd done during his hike.

Jughead enjoyed Betty's recounting of her kayak voyage with Brand. "Man, you saw just about everything. I'll have to get out there one of these mornings."

"We got photos of 'just about everything,' too." Betty had explained how difficult it would be for them to cover the same territory without Brand along to help paddle. "And maybe another morning we'll see a moose."

Jughead smiled at her, leaning back on his hands and enjoying the feeling of them all being together. "Want to go swimming after lunch?"

"Sure," Betty returned Jughead's smile, and suddenly neither seemed willing to look away.

Jughead reached over to touch her hair, brushing it back over her ear.

"Oh my god, get a room." Archie threw a potato chip at Jughead.

"Put a cork in it, Andrews," Jughead didn't look away from Betty. "We're on vacation."

Betty turned her face away self-consciously, but her smile widened slightly as she did so and her eyes cut back to meet Jughead's again. Jughead bit his lip.

"Come on, Ronnie," Archie stretched. "We should leave these two alone to stare at each other in peace. What do you want to do this afternoon? I am entirely at your disposal."

Veronica had been amiable but relatively quiet while they ate lunch. Now she looked surprised and pleased. "I don't know. Maybe we could explore one of the other trails? Spend some time in the hammocks? I was wondering about building a fire in the big fireplace tonight, too, and making s'mores for our dessert."

Archie and Veronica had volunteered to make dinner for everyone's second night. "We'd need to find out how that would work, and maybe even gather firewood," Veronica continued. "We could start with that and then decide what to do with the afternoon."

"That all sounds great. Your wish is my command, Veronica," Archie's tone was affectionate and lacked even a hint of sarcasm as he polished off his sandwich and handed the remainder of his bag of potato chips to Jughead, who accepted them happily. "After all... I hear that we're on vacation."

Jughead shot Archie an encouraging look when Veronica turned away from them to head toward the lodge. Archie responded with a hopeful expression and crossed fingers as he moved to follow.

"You're sweet," Betty said once they were out of earshot.

"What do you mean?" Jughead was puzzled by the non sequitur.

"You helped them. I haven't been able to do _anything_ to help them, not for weeks, and poof-," Betty snapped her fingers, "-you worked your magic on them. Now Archie's calmed down and Veronica's actually considering relaxing for an afternoon."

"I do not have magic," Jughead scoffed. He leaned in toward Betty. "I have special insights into the human psyche. That's all."

"Oh, _that's_ all," Betty leaned forward and they both grinned as their faces came together but did not quite touch.

"See?" Jughead bumped his nose lightly against Betty's. "No magic. Or we'd be alone and not on the dock being watched by the entire vacation crew."

Betty blushed. Jughead leaned back, but not before he took her hand and rubbed his thumb over her knuckles. "So, bathing suits and then meet back here in a few minutes?"

Betty nodded and they packed up the remains of their lunch.

Jughead made a quick side trip to drop off Brand's sunglasses. Brand was sitting with his dad, Sheriff Keller, and Fred Andrews in Adirondack chairs and they looked very relaxed - and amused.

"Smooth moves, kid," Brand was smirking when he accepted the sunglasses and put them on. "I can see you're feeling better. Or at least motivated to feel better in a hurry."

Jughead grinned at him and then glanced over to where his dad raised his eyebrows and gave him an impressed nod as well. Feeling encouraged, and maybe even a little bit proud of himself, Jughead turned to hurry up to the lodge. He had a swimming date.

**00000**

They ended up sitting around the outdoor fire pit that evening instead of trying to use the indoor fireplace during the heat of summer.

Archie was roasting four marshmallows on a single stick that had a number of branches, and Veronica was leaning into him and giggling as he made a comedy routine out of trying to make sure that each one toasted perfectly evenly. Nothing was resolved, Jughead knew that, and yet everything was better. That was enough for tonight.

Brand was toasting a marshmallow for Betty, with much fanfare about his technique and a wink to Jughead that let him know it was all a joke.

FP had quietly slipped Jughead a package of full-sized Reese's peanut butter cups, promising they'd make the best s'mores he'd ever had - as long as he made sure to melt them enough.

Fred and Mary Andrews looked cozy enough together that it occurred to Jughead to wonder what Archie's intel might be on that situation.

Joaquin was roasting two marshmallows on two sticks; Kevin had come up beside him and was casually resting his chin on Joaquin's shoulder as he watched the flames. Those two had been out swimming just before dinner, and both were sticking close to the fire to warm back up.

Sheriff Keller had delivered one slightly-burnt marshmallow to Bryn Carter and was taking Alice's order on how charred she preferred her own. The Carters had claimed two Adirondack chairs that were set slightly back from the fire, and Tom Keller seemed very happy to serve them his 'special recipe' marshmallows and chat with them both. He also seemed to be eyeing Kevin and Joaquin with a combination of affection and trepidation.

Jughead understood that. It was likely that Sheriff Keller was catching bits and pieces of what was going on with the Serpents, even if he didn't know the whole story. And Jughead wasn't sure at what point he might need to actually think about talking to Kevin about everything that had happened.

Thankfully he didn't think it was necessary yet. With any luck, it would never be necessary. But Jughead worried about that, along with the situation in general. Anything that happened with the Serpents would affect the Kellers.

Jughead's own marshmallow was looking more and more brown. He was making sure it heated all the way through, per his father's instructions, but as it crisped he drew it back a bit so it would not catch on fire.

"Hey, Jones," Brand turned away from where he'd been smoothly sliding his latest marshmallow 'masterpiece' onto a graham cracker for Betty, "how are you feeling?"

"Good," Jughead was surprised by the topic of conversation. "I think I'm back to normal. I've felt fine since lunch. Why?"

"Because I just heard today about an unexpected opportunity to dive a wreck tomorrow. It's one that tourists normally can't get near, unless they've got a lot more experience, but it's with a friend of a friend who owes me a favor." Brand's expression was smug with anticipation. "Do you feel _that_ good?"

"Ye-es," Jughead's eyes widened. "We can all go?"

"Only people who want a more rugged diving experience should get in the water with us, but yeah - there's space on the boat for anyone who's interested," Brand nodded, smiling at Jughead's reaction. "Even for folks who don't want to dive, it should be a good trip out on the water. It's a scenic area."

Jughead looked over to his dad. "Can we go? Please?"

"Here," FP shifted in his Adirondack chair as he reached into his pocket. He pulled out a small digital camera that looked tough enough that it might even survive being dropped off of a cliff. "It's not fancy, and it's refurbished so let me know if you have any issues, but I've been saving this for whenever we finally got you out there for a dive."

"An underwater camera?" Jughead's expression became even more excited. He launched himself to hug his dad. "Oh man, thanks!"

"And what about the guy who chartered this whole thing?" Brand's tone was aggrieved, but he was smiling.

"I'll let you use it too," Jughead raised an eyebrow and smirked over at his godfather. "If you're nice to me."

"Can I dive too?" Archie pulled his marshmallows back from the fire and looked over to his parents. "Jughead's allowed to, so it's not like it's dangerous or anything."

"I'll go out with you and we can see." Fred smiled. "Probably."

Archie and Jughead immediately turned their attention to convincing their girlfriends to come along and to consider diving with them. They'd scheduled a more traditional, tour-guide-led dive for later in the week, and both girls seemed more comfortable with the idea of that outing, but they promised to at least come out on the boat and defer the decision until then.

"Well, I'm certainly in," Sheriff Keller nodded to Brand. He was obviously delighted by the idea that they'd get a little more freedom on the less formal diving trip. "Thanks for setting it up, Brandon. Which wreck is it?"

Alice and Bryn didn't give any indication right away of whether they were inclined to go along as well, but Jughead did notice that Alice shot her mother a hopeful look.

"Will you come, Alice? Mrs. Carter?" Jughead raised his voice to be heard over the many animated conversations that were suddenly taking place.

"We just might," Bryn gave Jughead a small smile. "Thank you, Jughead."

Alice looked thrilled for a moment, though Jughead thought he noticed her smile fade slightly when he returned his attention to explaining to Betty why a dive with someone they - kind of - knew would be more fun than one with a larger tour company. Betty was not yet convinced, but was clearly enjoying his enthusiasm.

Jughead wondered if he should be making a point to include Alice more, whether in conversation or activities. He figured the best approach was simply to ask his dad and maybe even Mary Andrews to make sure he wasn't being rude - and also that he didn't err in the other direction and do anything that might create more issues in the future.

Betty noticed him look back over at Alice and she gave him a rueful smile. He returned it, shrugging, grateful that she seemed to understand.

"Oh, FP is _absolutely_ diving tomorrow," Brand was saying loudly in response to something Fred had said. "Have you seen the man swim? No excuses; you do not want to miss this one, old man."

Jughead watched his dad shake his head, frustrating Brand's very public efforts at persuading him, but with a small smile that gave away that he had every intention of diving with them. Brand winked at Jughead again and he knew that Brand had seen - and understood - his dad's smile as well.

This was going to be epic.

**00000**

**Yay! Diving! We've only been talking about it in two previous stories! This was a nice people-y chapter to write, and I hope also to read. I'll look forward to any and all reviews, and once again thank you(!) for the super generous ones on the previous chapter. :)**

**-Button**


	16. Chapter 16

**Chapter sixteen! I don't know about you, but it has been a WEEK. It's really nice to do something different for a while. :)**

**Thank you for the review, Skyrider45! That was so nice to hear about your excitement (especially after a nap - that sounds amazing right now!), and I am glad that the Fred/FP conversation made you laugh. That exchange made me happy. :) You picked out my favorite line from that chapter, too. Yay sass! :-D That is a very fair motto for life, haha. And yeah, we can't relax totally... Not yet. :) It is good to know you meant pacing, too, since that was how I took it. We'll see if it holds up, but I'm feeling the rhythm at present for this story. It was just meant to be a long one, I guess. :)**

**Thank you for the great review, Living Lucid Dream! That line felt almost _too_ mean, except that Fred has put up with a TON and FP really does push it from time to time. I was hoping that dialogue would come across as funny/brutal and not just... brutal. So yay! :-D And yeah, Archie was previously ****grounded**** for talking back to his mother (back when the drugging stuff came up; blink and you'll miss it), and I think the adults just plain leaned on Archie too much in DIAV. They'll get it together, though; I have faith in them. :) I liked your response to the Veronica/Archie burnout cycle, and I think it might be tough to kick... we shall see! I _loved_ your line about Brand keeping people "if not safe, then at least alive." That sums him up so perfectly! :-D And yeah, look at Jug (and FP!) doing so well. :) I'm proud of all the progress they've made, too!**

**Thank you for your review, Guest! I love sarcastic Jughead as well. Hopefully we'll see more and more of that as we go! :) And we are so primed for all of Brand's friends to be a disaster, let alone people who are another degree removed from him. I loved the worry about that in reviews this week. :) Good read of Alice, too. I think it's definitely complicated and painful, and it's not getting easier yet. And yes, Joaquin definitely needs Kevin "to make him behave." :-D I'm interested in seeing what happens with those two, and with the Serpents more generally. I think they've got some kick left in their arc...**

**Enjoy!**

**-Button**

**00000**

The girls did not end up diving.

That turned out to be an easy decision, since the whole experience was turning into some sort of posturing, one-upping game and the captain and crew member were saying all sorts of crazy stuff that had the adults - and Kevin and Joaquin - in stitches, while Jughead and Archie were getting more nervous by the minute.

It was probably a good thing that Mrs. Andrews hadn't come along, or she might have pulled the plug on either of the boys diving. It was sounding that ridiculous.

"Look, maybe you and I should be dive buddies," Archie said quietly to Jughead. "It might be safer that way. We can take it easy, and we can always just come back up."

None of the diving they did would require decompression, and Brand had assured them that they'd be just fine with the limited tutorials and practice they'd had in the community pool back home.

The captain had even interjected that they could probably handle the dive if they'd ever been in a kiddie pool before, though he had then eyed them as if he was not sure that they were even _that_ experienced in the water.

Brand's friend, whom he'd never mentioned by name, had completed Navy SEAL training with their captain, and some code of favors owed had resulted in today's tour.

Apparently a good attitude about working with first-time divers cost extra.

Sheriff Keller overheard Archie. "Ohhh, no - you two are the least experienced divers here. No way are you going to be diving buddies. Joaquin's done this a few times before, and Kevin's an old hand. Why don't you two pair up with them?"

Jughead met his dad's eyes. FP was already shaking his head. "Not this time. I'm taking Jughead down for his first dive; I want to see how that camera holds up."

"I'll dive with Joaquin." Brand grinned with a few too many teeth, which made Jughead have to hide a smile.

"I'll stick close to Archie," Mr. Andrews offered. "The diving I've done was years ago, though, so we might want a third along with us."

"You two can team up with me and Brandon," Keller slapped Brand on the back as he claimed him as his diving partner. "Joaquin and Kevin can dive together."

The two teens nodded in confirmation, Joaquin shooting Brand a suspicious look. Tom looked around the boat, assessing who had decided to dive and who had opted to stay in the boat. "That should work. Nate, maybe you could stick close to Kevin and Joaquin?"

Nate was the short, ridiculously muscular crew member who would be diving with them. He looked up from the mismatched gear he'd been hauling around the deck and passing out and nodded. "Sure. Which ones are Kevin and Joaquin?"

They raised their hands reluctantly. Apparently they'd wanted a little more freedom in the water.

"I'll show you all the cool stuff, so be ready to keep up," Nate's grin was wolfish and full of promise. Both teens suddenly looked happier.

Jughead was very glad that he and Archie were not the ones going down with Nate.

"Will we go in shifts?" Fred asked, looking at the sheer amount of gear that was filling the deck.

"Nah, you get less dive time if we do it that way." Captain Porter was downing his second beer. "Just go, have a good time, and don't get stuck anywhere that we'll have to come fish you out. Do _not_ break the gear."

"Oka-ay," Fred raised his eyebrows, but everyone else's confidence was contagious.

And all of the very careful precautions they'd been taught had certainly been geared more toward rank beginners and distracted tourists who were presumed not to be in shape. So, while this seemed like it might be the extreme opposite end of the spectrum… it might be more along the lines of what the locals did.

Jughead hoped so. He looped the strap for his underwater camera around his wrist and began suiting up with his dad.

"You keep eyes on me at all times," FP had a few rules of his own now that he knew more of what the dive would entail. "No wandering off, and no touching anything until we've discussed it." They'd learned a number of hand signals in preparation for diving.

"Not gonna be a problem, dad." Jughead felt his nerves kicking up again as they got closer to entering the water, but it was starting to feel more like anticipation than worry. He smiled mischievously. "And if _you_ run into any trouble, just let me know. I'll get you right out."

"That's how it works, boy." FP was starting to look excited as well and he reached over to jostle Jughead's shoulder affectionately. "I'm counting on it."

It was not long after that when they dropped off of the back of the boat, into the cold, clear water of Lake Superior.

**00000**

Betty took a few photos with Jughead's camera as he and FP went into the water together. The shoreline here was dramatic with beaches and immense trees, and the boat was roomy. It had dozens of perches set aside so that even a much larger group could relax comfortably. Veronica was getting them each a soda from a cooler and they were both about to head to the upper deck and its padded benches under the fabric cover that acted as both windbreak and shade.

"Does it take good pictures?" Alice asked, walking over to Betty. "Do you mind if I see?"

Betty was surprised, but she shook her head to indicate that she did not mind. With a smile she helped Alice pull up the photos she'd just taken of Jughead and FP shooting her twin thumbs-up gestures as they splashed into the water side by side.

"They are quite the pair. I've never really seen them together before," Alice mused as she studied the image. "It kind of explains some of the differences."

The other divers were hitting the water in pairs and Betty looked up to wave to Kevin as he and Joaquin held hands and dropped backward off the stern of the boat.

"Differences between Jughead and FP?" Betty asked. She was pleased that Alice had come over - and that she'd done so now, and not while Jughead had still been on board.

Betty did not want Alice to be isolated or lonely, but she also knew that there were serious concerns about the court case and Alice having too much access, and the ability to either get information from Jughead or simply to get him to say something that would sound odd out of context. Which might not be difficult, knowing Jughead.

"No, I mean-," Alice broke off, embarrassed. "I meant between Jughead and… Jonas. The way he was in Toronto. And still is sometimes."

"When you two talk," Betty supplied, feeling generous. "He's a little different when he talks to you. I've noticed that."

Once the last of the divers had gotten into the water, Betty and Alice turned and climbed up the ladder to the upper seating area. The divers were still visible, swimming down toward the wreck that was in view through the pristine water.

"Yeah," Alice was quiet for a few moments. "It's like he tries to be different from his dad, and he tries to be the same as Agent Davies."

Betty frowned. "I... don't think so. Not really."

Alice raised her eyebrows, and Betty didn't like that it felt like a challenge. As if Alice thought that she knew something about Jughead that Betty did not understand. Perhaps _could _not understand.

"Did he get along with FP growing up? Because that looks messy to me. With Agent Davies," Alice paused, considering, "it seems complicated, but not because of them. The circumstances make it complicated. They're a lot more similar than Jughead and his dad are."

Betty was still frowning at that when Veronica came up the ladder.

"It is _quite _the job getting up those ladders with full hands." Veronica handed one soda over to Betty. "I'm sorry; I didn't know you'd be up here, Alice, or I'd at least have tried to carry a third one up." Veronica glanced behind her to the ladder. "I might not have made it, though."

"Don't worry about me. I'll get something later," Alice said to Veronica, "but thank you."

"What are you talking about? Don't let me interrupt," Veronica relaxed onto one of the padded benches. They were surprisingly comfortable.

"Alice was just telling me that Jughead is more like Brand than he's like FP." One of Betty's eyebrows went up and her tone was wry. "What do you think, V?"

"Oh, definitely," Veronica agreed without hesitation. "Jughead has made a career out of not being like FP. In some ways he's more like _me_ than he's like his dad."

Betty blinked.

Alice's expression started to border on a smirk.

Veronica realized that was not the response Betty had been hoping for.

"They're certainly getting closer now, though, since he got back-," Veronica tried to walk back her stark statements.

"It's okay. It's fine," Betty cut her off. "In fact, let's not talk about the boys. They're certainly not talking about us."

They looked over the side of the boat to where they could still see the divers far below.

"This place is so amazing," Veronica breathed.

Betty and Alice both nodded. Alice still had Jughead's camera around her neck, and she took a photo of the divers and wreck from their bird's eye view.

"I'm still glad we didn't dive, though," Veronica added. "These guys are insane. And if Captain Porter tells one more story about someone drowning, I'm seriously rethinking the dive tour on the schedule for later this week."

"Oh, yeah," Betty agreed and Alice nodded emphatically. "This is nice, though."

And, as the conversation turned to less fraught topics, it really was.

"So, what do you call this look?" Veronica gestured to Alice's outfit.

"I call it the anti-mall," Alice perked up. "Really, though, that's all of my looks. It's one thing to wear clothing just to blend in, or for a specific event, but when I have the freedom to do whatever I want, this is my art."

Betty hadn't given Alice's outfit much thought before, but it was a little different. She was wearing an oversized T-shirt over her swimsuit; it had geometric cutouts and hung on her in a way that was far more flattering than Betty had ever imagined an oversized T-shirt being. "Where did you find it?"

"Uh, the suit I had to special order. I don't do bathing suits. The shirt was a giveaway at an outdoor concert, and I just used scissors to give it some shape." Alice smiled at her own choice of words. "Or shapes, I guess."

"That is a talent," Veronica was impressed. "Do you sew?"

"I do, but when I can I keep it simple - just a few stitches here or there. I have some 'show pieces' that I put more work into." Alice shrugged. "Not exactly Riverdale High clothing."

"You can wear what you want," Betty protested, suddenly feeling more protective of Alice. "Nobody would say anything."

"Uh, they might say something." Veronica did not want to overpromise. "But they'd be wrong. Besides, someone's always saying something."

"True. But I'm not sure you're getting the picture." Alice smiled conspiratorially. "I'll make you a deal: I'll break out some of my more elaborate designs if we do something together after we get back to Riverdale - something not school-affiliated. You need a _setting_ for some of those outfits."

"Okay. Let's do it." Veronica was intrigued.

"I loan things, too," Alice looked at Betty then. "Um, not that you need to borrow clothing. Just-,"

"She can borrow something," Veronica interjected, and then turned to Betty. "It would be good for you, B."

"Well, maybe let me see what she's talking about first," Betty said cautiously, but she smiled. It sounded like fun, and just knowing this detail about Alice made her more interesting. More real.

"Oh, yeah - this is the kind of clothing that you wear with confidence or not at all," Alice said with exaggerated seriousness and a smile to show that she was joking. She stretched, and when her shirt followed her motion, the patterns of shadow and light through the shirt onto her bathing suit shifted prismatically. "Maybe we should go dancing. Some of my outfits really move."

"I'd be up for it." Veronica grinned. "I don't know where we'd go, but there have to be places."

Betty smiled as well. "It would be something different."

Alice grinned. This was an unexpected return to the promising friendship that they had been developing before everything had fallen apart over Jughead. It was heartening.

**00000**

Brand enjoyed the time he had to think while he swam through the restful quiet of the water.

He had always thought of himself as a people person - though he'd been told otherwise more than a few times - and yet Brand was still surprised by how many people he found he _liked_ among Jones' circle of friends. Even that Joaquin, as shifty as the little punk was, had his good qualities. He was a great swimmer, for instance, and he seemed to know what he was about.

Tom Keller was hilarious, and they'd had fun palling around on the boat. Diving with him was turning out to be a good fit as well, since Brand's military approach meshed well with Tom's enthusiastic and experienced attitude toward the activity. They were efficient and methodical, and it was apparent right away that they'd get a chance to explore pretty much the whole area in the time they'd been given. Some of the less experienced and less focused pairs would not come anywhere close to accomplishing that.

This wreck was a dangerous one, too. There was jagged metal sticking off of the ship itself in all directions, and a number of sharp-looking metal objects jutting up from the sandy bed of the lake. Brand would put money on there being wires and similar hazards that he had not yet spotted.

And oh look, Fred and Archie were making moves to check out the inside of the wreck. So much for 'restful.'

The Andrews men were still close by since the four had decided to stick more or less together, so Brand picked up speed and gestured for Tom to follow him. That was just stupid.

It took only a few gestures to convince Fred to let them go inside first, and to consider not going in at all since this was Archie's first real dive. This was one of the most fun aspects of wreck diving, but it was also how people died. Brand hadn't even been sure _he'd_ go under or inside any part of this one, but when Tom signaled that he'd check it out with him, they cautiously entered and started to explore.

Archie was right behind them, and Brand exhaled heavily with frustration. Fred hadn't had enough time to signal to the teen whether or not that was all right, so he could assume that Andrews had gone rogue. Not a promising start to a dangerous tour of a hazardous wreck.

At least Jones wasn't on his six. Yet.

And actually, it looked like previous divers had been paying close attention to potential hazards. More than one area looked like it had been de-fanged of its jagged metal, and Brand started to relax.

As it turned out, Archie did fine; Fred grabbed him and had a quick, signaled conversation that seemed to cow the well-adjusted one back into behaving, and as the other divers swam nearby and popped in and out of proximity to where Brand and Tom were investigating, it was all going smoothly.

When Fred grasped his shoulder about fifteen minutes later, Brand assumed that he wanted to show him something.

And he did. It was just not scenic. Archie was tapping on a gauge as if it wasn't working properly, and Brand wanted to curse. There had been some very old gear in the mix, much of which was the lighter stuff they'd had on board, so Jones and Andrews had been handed it preferentially. And if the gauge wasn't working, then they weren't messing around and assuming that anything else was functioning properly.

Brand gestured for the teen to go up and end the dive. Archie looked resistant, and Brand immediately turned to his father and diving partner and gestured a second time. Fred nodded and turned his attention to Archie - with more success than Brand. They started to leave the wreck and Brand watched their progress for a few seconds before he turned back to Tom and they picked up where they'd left off.

And then, not five minutes later, there was another tap on his shoulder.

Crap.

Brand took one look at Fred's expression and simply pushed him back along the way he'd come. It was clear that something was very wrong, and it would be no doubt be better just to get to the situation right away.

Brand was grateful for the second time that it wasn't Jones. For once the kid seemed to be behaving himself.

**00000**

Jughead had figured out how to use his underwater camera, and was finding that the clarity of the water meant he had a fair amount of light to work with. He got some great shots of his dad and the wreck, and a funny one of Brand gesturing at Archie and Mr. Andrews before they all went inside the wreck. When the others disappeared into the ship as well, Jughead gave his father a hopeful look.

FP had shaken his head, which had been disappointing for a moment, but then he'd signaled that they would wait for the other divers to move on before they checked it out. Jughead was fine with that, and they swam around and explored the lake bed and some of the debris that had scattered when the ship had gone down, and probably also in the years since the wreck had first happened.

Jughead was enjoying taking photos of everything, up until his dad grabbed his shoulder and gestured to the camera and then made the motion for keeping his eyes on him. FP obviously thought there was too much photography and not enough vigilance.

Jughead tried to fix that. It was fun, though, and thinking about sharing the photos with Betty, just as she'd done with the kayaking trip, was a strong motivator.

Then there was a slight flurry of motion; FP jerked in surprise and came in contact with Jughead's dive fins. He and Jughead both turned to see that Brand had come up behind them and was gesturing for them to follow him.

Then things got scary.

In case Brand's expression hadn't clued them in that something was wrong, Archie's expression when they got to him was screaming panic. Jughead had been happy enough to follow his dad and Brand into the ship, but as soon as he saw the blood and the way Archie's left arm was badly caught on a jagged, rusting cable - which was apparently not letting go - he felt panic rise up in himself as well.

It was almost funny when his first thought was of sharks before he recalled that they were in a lake. But nothing about this was funny.

There was a lot of space in this area of the wreck, so even when Joaquin and Kevin swam over with Nate, everyone had plenty of room to maneuver. Mr. Andrews was holding Archie's shoulder, trying to keep him steady and help him avoid ripping his arm any further than he already had.

Keller had a diving knife out and was trying to describe something with hand gestures - maybe cutting away part of Archie's arm, Jughead worried - and Mr. Andrews was shaking his head no.

Brand observed this and then he looked over and caught Jughead's eye. He gestured for Jughead to swim over to him, and when he obeyed his dad followed.

Jughead was surprised when Brand began checking all of his gauges. FP suddenly looked worried and got in Jughead's face with his light as if to see how alert he was. Jughead waved at him sarcastically, saying hello in response. He was fine, thanks, and also not the one shish kebabed on a metal cable.

Brand was quickly satisfied, and he patted Jughead's head instead of tangling with his hair underwater. His dad seemed relieved as well, but still signaled to end the dive. Brand shook his head and pointed over to Archie and then to Jughead.

Oh. Archie was looking even more panicked now that Sheriff Keller was brandishing a knife at him, and Brand started nudging Jughead over to where he'd be closer and more directly in Archie's line of sight - but still out of reach in case Archie started to lose it.

Only then did Brand start gesturing to Nate, who was proving to be useless as he motioned to Tom about the diving knife and seemed to be on Fred's side about not using it to free Archie. He didn't seem to have an alternate plan, and Brand gestured for him to go up to the boat. They needed backup. Maybe some tools.

In just a few minutes Nate had gone up with Joaquin and Kevin, leaving behind Brand and Sheriff Keller, FP and Jughead, and Archie and Fred.

They waited.

Archie's arm was actively bleeding, and Jughead noticed that he was looking down at his diving gauges yet again. Jughead suddenly wondered if something else was wrong too, and if that had been why Brand had checked his gear so closely. His and Archie's looked like it matched, even though almost everyone seemed to have different brands and types of equipment.

Fred looked to Brand, fear obvious in his expression, and Jughead decided to try and distract Archie. He held up his camera, and that caught Archie's eye.

Archie glared, shaking his head no.

Jughead shrugged, and tried to spell out in gestures the notion that Veronica might be impressed - might think he'd been brave - and would probably treat him really well if she saw visual evidence of what had happened.

Archie's eyes narrowed. He seemed to get the gist of it, though, and finally nodded. Jughead aimed his diving light and took some photos, and Archie seemed a lot calmer after that - and then Brand seemed to have an idea. He reached for the camera, and Jughead handed it over.

Brand took some photos from several angles of the nasty catch on Archie's arm. Archie looked a little confused, but moved to allow Brand to get good angles of it and to steady the camera since there was a lot less light in here and his diving light required careful aim.

When Brand handed the camera to FP and motioned for him to swim to the surface, Jughead saw his dad hesitate and look over at him. Brand clearly wanted the strongest swimmer to go so that everyone on the boat could figure out what to do based on the photos. And Jughead was doing the best job of keeping Archie calm.

Sheriff Keller indicated that he would go along with FP and gestured between Brand and Jughead. They would now be diving partners.

FP nodded slowly, and signed "okay" to Jughead before waiting for him to return the signal. Jughead did, nodding encouragingly.

And then his dad and Keller were gone.

And then Archie locked eyes with him and pointed to his regulator.

Oh, man.

Jughead didn't hesitate. Avoiding the cable and Archie's injured arm, he pushed Fred out of the way, grabbed Archie's free shoulder, and locked on - and passed his own regulator to him so that they could buddy breathe just as they'd learned to do in the pool training back home.

In a flash, Brand was trying to get between them, gesturing angrily.

Oh yeah. Jughead and Archie had older equipment; the adults had second regulators built into their gear and could help him without buddy breathing.

And Archie wasn't letting go of the regulator.

Jughead locked wide eyes with Brand now, realizing what he'd done by mistake. Archie was officially the most dangerous thing in the lake: a drowning person who'd begun to panic.

Brand shook his head, glaring down at Jughead. He waited a few long moments in order to make his point before he handed his secondary regulator to Jughead.

They were all three tethered together now.

Fred had been taken by surprise and knocked away by Jughead's impulsive movement, but he quickly swam around to offer Archie his own second regulator to try and sort this out.

Brand watched like a hawk as Fred did so, and Jughead became even more worried when Brand's hand closed on his diving knife as he waited to see how this played out.

Archie was not focusing well, and the blood was getting a little darker in the water like he might be bleeding faster. Fred tried to signal to him, but Archie shook his head once and Fred frowned. Then he pointed to Jughead's gauges, and knocked on one to suggest that there might be an issue with his gear also. That seemed to snap Archie out of the worst of the panic - or perhaps ignite a new one that allowed him to think clearly for a moment - and then Jughead was free.

Jughead swiftly retrieved his own regulator and released Brand's secondary one.

Brand grabbed his arm and hauled him away from Archie, putting his body between the two teens.

Fred looked panicked then, as if they might swim to the surface and leave the two of them alone, with just one air tank between them.

Brand reached over without swimming any closer. He closed a hand on Fred's shoulder in reassurance and they all took a beat.

When Jughead made a motion to signal to Archie and try to calm him down again, Brand yanked him back hard as if he'd been attempting to swim over to his friend. Jughead stopped moving.

And they waited.

**00000**

FP was pacing on the boat. The captain was convinced that they had a tool that would slice the cable and they could get Archie back to the surface and then to a hospital for a cleaner removal of whatever was embedded in his arm. Captain Porter seemed to be yelling at Tom more than looking for the tool, though.

"Hey, I think it's just a fish hook sort of catch," Tom raised his hands in acquiescence. "It will hurt, but his air's doing something it shouldn't. Better by far that he have a few stitches than mess with that."

"You are _not_ the captain. And _Nate _was in charge of decisions down there," Captain Porter was still fighting with him as he opened another locker and sifted through its contents. FP grabbed Keller and steered him toward the bow of the boat.

"Let him look. He's not going to let this go as long as you're somewhere he can see you," FP warned. "And they're stuck down there until he finds something that will cut that cable. Or he decides you're right, which will take a whole lot longer if he shoots his mouth off any more and feels like he has to save face."

Tom knew that FP was right. He was mostly incensed about the equipment malfunctioning and the apparent lack of concern about that. His own son had been down there too, depending on equipment that met whatever lax standards Porter deemed sufficient for his tours.

And he knew that FP's son was still down there, using some of the oldest equipment he'd seen in a long time.

"What's going on?" Betty was climbing down the ladder from where the girls had taken over the upper seating area. "We thought you'd be diving for longer. And where's Jughead? Weren't you dive partners, Mr. Jones?"

"Yeah," FP nodded curtly. "Archie… hit a snag. They're down there figuring it out. We came up to get tools."

"Archie _what_?" Veronica was descending the ladder now. "Is he okay?"

"He's fine. Just stuck. The others are with him, and we'll be heading back down as soon as Captain Porter finds his bolt cutters or whatever it is he's after."

FP's eyes widened when he realized that Betty had picked up the underwater camera. "Hold on - give that to me - we're using it for-"

"Oh my god, _look_," Betty showed Veronica the small screen on the back of the digital camera.

Veronica put a hand over her mouth, aghast. "What can we do?"

FP frowned. "You can get out of the way - and not panic. We need to find that tool."

Alice was still on the upper deck, and she called down to the girls. "There's storage under the benches up here. Let's help look."

The girls scrambled back up, and FP figured that was pretty much the best case scenario at this point.

"Wait, would these work?" Alice was leaning down and holding out a pair of nasty looking bolt cutters toward FP.

"No idea, but I'll take 'em." FP reached for them gratefully. "Thank you, Alice."

"Where did you get those?" Captain Porter came around the side of the boat. "That's exactly what I've been-"

"I'm going back down. Right now." FP had no more use for the captain now that he'd confirmed that FP had the tool he needed. "Suit up or shut up."

Porter was right behind him when he hit the water and began swimming back toward the wreck.

**00000**

FP was surprised when he reached the others and handed over the bolt cutters to Brandon - and was given a trade. Jughead was roughly shoved into his arms and Brand followed that up with a firm gesture to go back to the surface.

It was enough to make his heart race with panic yet again, until FP realized that Jughead's expression was stubborn and irritated instead of fearful.

Apparently there had been some form of conflict. In spite of the very obvious, compelling reasons to avoid conflict at all costs.

FP figured Brandon was somehow to blame, but he just shooed Jughead ahead of himself and they swam together toward the surface.

**00000**

**I know, seriously - you can't take these guys anywhere... ;) I hope you enjoyed this chapter as much as I enjoyed writing a low-dialogue chapter (that was actually a really cool challenge :-D). I'll look forward to any and all reviews as I work through chapter seventeen - and ****I hope you're looking forward to a lovely weekend!**

**-Button**


	17. Chapter 17

**Chapter Seventeen! And it's fall!**

**Thank you so much for the review, Skyrider45 - I hope you had safe travels! Airports are oddly focusing for me, so I hope it is the same for you. I was really glad that you enjoyed the minimal dialogue, too! I'm already thinking about structuring new and exciting challenges into future chapters, mwahaha... :-D I'd have been freaked if I were Archie, too. You are very paranoid, which made me smile (yay!). Everyone's on edge! I was glad that Betty's position made sense - and SO glad that Alice's return to (some of) her strong personality was recognizable and logical. She could use more of that. We'll see how things progress! You are quite welcome, too. :) Solidarity on the chugging away!**

**Thank you for the lovely review, Living Lucid Dream! I thought long and hard about the FP/Brand line, so I am glad that stuck out and rang true to you. It's not all good (threats to survival are a large part of it), and I think it's going to start being a moving target. I'm also hoping that line never gets repeated to FP (ouch). Yay for female friendship! I love that, too, and I think they've got some arc in them. :) I'm loving the Joaquin response so much, too, and you are 100% right that Brand's POV is not insignificant (I love writing his POV :-D). Joaquin's got stuff coming, and I'm excited that people are excited for it! And yeah, poor Archie. He was a trooper, but that is scary stuff. Jughead's been working on responding appropriately - but yeah, he's got a little ways to go yet. **

**Thanks for the review, Guest! Yeah, Archie got in on some action this time - and I wasn't thinking too much about leaving folks with a cliffhanger (oops!) but you were right that things were still in process. I was glad you thought that exchange was sweet! There's strong relationships and trust there, and they did all work together (relatively) well under the circumstances. FP's not entirely sure whether trouble is following Jug or Brand, I think. I agree - he's still learning. Yay for the girls getting along! They need more friendship time. :) And you are quite welcome! Thank you for continuing to read!**

**Enjoy!**

**-Button**

**00000**

"So then Jughead tried to save my life, but I was totally confused and out of it because my equipment wasn't working right, and so I nearly drowned him - which was _nothing_ compared to what Brandon threatened to do to him on the boat ride home-,"

Archie was relating the story to his mother. Fred rolled his eyes as he waited to make his own defense afterward; this was sounding like the precursor to him being in a lot of trouble with Mary, though the experience seemed to have turned Archie around rather dramatically on some of his recent bad attitude toward his father.

And hey, maybe Archie's retelling was over-the-top enough that Mary would automatically downplay the whole incident in her mind. A man could hope.

"That was really quick thinking," Brandon approached Fred where he was sitting on a leather sofa in the great room of the lodge. "I didn't get a chance to tell you how impressed I was. Knocking on Jones' gauge like that."

"Thanks. I know Archie; he might panic, but his brain keeps firing. You just have to make the right connection if another one isn't working." Fred smiled wanly. "Did you handcuff Jughead to a hammock?"

Brandon had issued a number of threats on the ride back from the wreck before FP had stepped in and sequestered them in the bow to argue more privately - and when Jughead had yelled back that they were on vacation, Brandon had offered that compromise.

"He'd just better watch himself," Brandon raised an eyebrow.

"He scared me too," Fred shook his head. "I didn't think he'd ever get back in the water. And then that was a little _too_ bold."

"Oh, yeah," Brand sighed deeply. "He scares the crap out of me when he does stuff like that."

"Brave, you mean?" Fred smiled wryly.

"That's one word for it."

"FP's lucky he missed that whole thing," Fred observed.

"He sure doesn't think so," Brandon smirked darkly. "He's fully convinced that if he'd been there, the kid would never have tried a stunt like that. He blames me, as if Jones does this sort of thing just because I'm around."

Fred didn't answer, but his expression suggested that he did not entirely disagree with FP's analysis.

"What? You think the kid feels a little too safe around me?"

That had not been what Fred was thinking at all. But he stopped to consider the possibility. "I would have said that he was trying to impress you. But actually, I think you might be right. Jughead does act quite a bit like a child who still thinks his parent has superpowers. He doesn't seem to have any fear when you're around - even when he should."

"Well, I do have superpowers. And he's getting taller, but he still has a ways to go on that prefrontal cortex," Brandon cocked his head to one side and smirked again. "Good news for everyone that I'm leaving, then, eh?"

Fred eyed Brandon, not sure how to respond to that.

"He has to grow up." Brand shrugged. "I know it; he knows it. That will be easier without me around."

"Maybe." Fred wasn't sure that was exactly how it worked, but he also was not sure that _wasn't_ how it worked - at least when it came to Jughead and Brandon. "It has been good having you around, though."

"In spite of the sketchy diving tour."

Fred smiled. "My son's the one who disrupted the tour. The equipment had an issue, but that can happen. He'd have been fine if we had made it to the surface when we first noticed it. The 'sketchy diving tour' was honestly pretty great otherwise."

Brand considered that. "Okay. Thanks. FP's not seeing it that way, though. Want to put in a good word?"

"Sure," Fred agreed. "I'll talk to him tonight."

**00000**

When the adults had declared the need for 'a chat' before the wreck dive scheduled for the following day, Jughead had been a little nervous that they might all be on very short leashes - or perhaps not even permitted to go at all, though Jughead had some promises from Brand that he felt pretty safe about falling back on if necessary.

Archie had made the most compelling argument he could think of: that they were experienced and had learned a lot of lessons, and so they were not just trustworthy, but valuable assets in the water.

Brand had basically exploded in response to that line of reasoning.

He'd lectured Archie at some length about 'Providence, fools, and children' - which had somehow gotten both Mr. Andrews _and _FP on the boys' side about the tour. Jughead was pretty sure Archie hadn't had that sequence of events in mind when he'd decided to take that tack, but neither of them were going to question it now that it had worked.

Not even when Brand winked at Jughead midway through, right about when the conflict between him and Archie started to raise Mr. Andrews' hackles and Jughead's dad had stepped in with "Now hang on just a minute, Brandon," which was what he usually said before countermanding him.

Jughead had even briefly wondered if he and Archie had been the ones played by the three adults, and whether they had staged the whole thing to make sure that the teens knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that any further incidents in the water would not be tolerated.

But he was probably being paranoid.

In any case, they had a much less exciting wreck dive the following day, with a large group of tourists. Betty and Jughead dove together this time, and FP and Brand accompanied them on a tame exploration of a far less dramatic ship - while using much newer equipment. It was still a lot of fun, and they enjoyed the dive, including posing together when Betty took a turn with the underwater camera.

Betty particularly liked one shot of the three men together, with the wreck in the background, each using another's secondary regulator so that they were literally attached at the hip and laughing together. She thought of Brand's comment about the eagle photo, and thought she might try to get Jughead a framed print of that one.

One of the guides swam over immediately to gesture at them.

They laughed even harder, but disentangled quickly before they were kicked off of the guided dive.

During the boat ride back to the marina, Jughead came up behind Betty in the bow and wrapped his arms around her. "You cold?"

"Not anymore," Betty smiled coyly over her shoulder at him.

"Let's take a kayak out tomorrow morning. Or two of the one-person kayaks," Jughead suggested. "Find a moose."

"That sounds fun," Betty leaned her head back into Jughead's left shoulder. "Are you getting the vacation you wanted?"

"Oh yeah," Jughead grinned at the sunset that was starting to glow red in the distance. "Back when we first planned to go on vacation, it was supposed to be a time to just… figure out my dad, you know? And it still is, but I'm getting to know him with you, and him with Brand, and him with Mr. Andrews and everyone. It's better."

"Are you going to spend some time with just your dad?" Betty was surprised by Jughead's characterization of the original purpose of the vacation.

"Yeah," Jughead nodded. "We made some plans yesterday, since my dad thinks that Brand and I argued on the boat because we're getting anxious about the end of the trip - and Brand going back to Toronto."

Betty frowned sympathetically; the thought had occurred to her as well when Brand and Jughead had blown up at one another in spectacular fashion and FP had patiently stood between them to referee (and because "someone needs to keep Captain Porter from keelhauling you two under maritime law," as FP had put it when he'd dragged them both to the bow to have their fight in relative privacy) until they'd calmed down. Once tempers had cooled, the three had sat together in the bow talking quietly for the remainder of the ride to the marina, and the whole thing had seemed like it was a lot more complicated than a simple argument over what Jughead had - or had not - done in the water.

"So anyway, we all three agreed that I'll spend some of tomorrow with just Brand, and some of the day after with just my dad. No more fighting." Jughead thought for a few moments. "Honestly, when we first made the plan to go on vacation, my dad and I hadn't gotten much time together after debriefing. Now we've gotten more time, and it will be nice to have some - just the two of us - on vacation. But it's not... an emergency, I guess. Or whatever."

"That's good," Betty wasn't entirely sure what he meant, but she felt fairly certain that her statement was accurate.

"Yeah," Jughead lowered his chin so it rested on her right shoulder. "Because that means I get to have you here."

"Mm-hm," Betty smiled. "Are you and Brandon making dinner tomorrow?"

"Yep." Jughead lit up at the reminder. "We're going to try making croissants in the morning, too. Just make sure you let me taste test one first, in case I poison them."

"So fancy," Betty teased. "I do like a man who can cook."

"Where is he? I'll fight him for you." Jughead laughed when Betty turned into him and pushed his shoulder in response to his intentional misinterpretation. "I'll get there eventually, but I really can't cook yet. Brand's been working overtime to teach me before he leaves, and I'm even worse at this than I was at fighting."

They were silent for a few moments.

"Jughead… What was that like? When you first started training together?" Betty had become reluctant to pry after everything that had happened with Trigger and the drug dealers, but she was still eager to learn more about Jughead's 'lost time.' Alice's comments the previous day had also prompted her to feel as though she should start asking questions again.

"Terrifying," Jughead's tone was light but he shifted Betty back into her original position so that they were both facing the sunset and not each other. The wind was chilly; everyone else had moved out of the bow and they had some measure of privacy for this conversation. "He took it easy on me, but I didn't know that at the time. I had no idea what was going on. And I never did get my feet under me in Riverdale."

Betty was silent for a few moments, thinking about what that must have meant in more concrete terms. "Was that... on purpose?"

"It's always on purpose with Brand," Jughead smirked to himself. "He had to work hard to undo a lot of that later. I still have panic attacks every so often."

"You had those in Riverdale? Before you went to Toronto?"

"No," Jughead thought about that. "I guess not. Those only started after we got to Toronto. But, like, right after."

"Okay." Betty wasn't sure how much she really expected to learn right here and now. This felt like the beginning of a longer discussion. Perhaps one they'd have over months or years. She decided to try for a few more questions, though. "It was bad, then, in Toronto? Right away?"

"It was better, actually, but I was-," Jughead pulled Betty more tightly against his frame. "I don't know. I was finally really scared, I guess, and I didn't have you. Archie and Veronica. Mr. Andrews and everyone."

"But the panic attacks are better now, right?" Betty hadn't realized they'd continued happening after the police escort incident. She was suddenly worried that he might be having them every night or something.

"Yep," Jughead sounded proud. "Hardly ever these days. The nightmares are getting better too. That's why I'm rooming with Archie; he needed a break from the nightmares, but I've had a pretty good track record for the last two weeks. Trigger disappearing kind of messed it up for me, but I'm getting back to where I should be."

Betty was silent again. She knew how much Jughead missed Trigger, and he knew that she had never particularly liked the dog. There wasn't much she could say that would not sound weird - or disingenuous.

"He's probably… either dead or happy." Jughead seemed to intuit where Betty's mind had gone. "Trig would have come home otherwise. But for enough bacon, he'd sell me up the river. He's done it; just ask my dad. So he might have found a new family."

"Sure." Betty could not picture that dog being taken in by anyone, but she could honestly agree that 'either dead or happy' likely summed up the reality.

They lapsed into a comfortable silence and both relaxed as they enjoyed looking out over the water and watching the sunset deepen in hue.

**00000**

"How's Veronica?" Jughead asked when he and Archie were getting ready for bed that night. "You got to dive together, right?"

"She's better. We both are," Archie confirmed. "She's really relieved that I didn't drown or have to have to have my arm amputated, so that's been nice too; she helped me wrap up my arm so I could dive today and it _almost_ got steamy right there on the boat." Archie grinned and Jughead shook his head with an amused smile. "It's not like we've been able to really talk about things, but I'm trying not to rush it. I want to wait and let her talk when she's ready."

Jughead nodded his approval. "In a weird way, that's what worked with me."

"Yeah?" Archie looked really curious all of a sudden. "So… your dad, like, put you into three days of FP boot camp. And then you were… I don't know, maybe only ten percent better, but actually moving in the right direction. How did your dad do that?"

Jughead blinked. "Ye-eah, don't try that."

Archie laughed at his expression. "Okay. Let me know if you have any inspiration, though, okay? I think things will probably keep getting better between me and Veronica, but I don't think anything's actually fixed on her end. I still want to help."

"I'll think about it," Jughead distinctly recalled taking a needlessly long shower just to get a break from his dad. He also recalled feeling relieved and safer. Figuring out how Archie could give Veronica the second without the first, particularly since he'd already had issues with getting overly insistent, seemed tricky. "I'll let you know."

"Thanks, man," Archie climbed into bed. "Don't poison us tomorrow."

Jughead grinned. "Just eat what Brand cooks. That's the only safe path."

"We'll need hand signals," Archie mused.

"We already have hand signals," Jughead objected. "We don't need any more."

"We need _secret_ hand signals that will keep other people away from the good food," Archie amended. "Be thinking about that too. We'll sleep on it."

Jughead grinned and turned off their light. "Sure, Archie."

"Can you open a window?" Archie turned over almost violently on his bed. "I still can't believe Kevin and Joaquin lit a fire downstairs."

It had been a shock to Sheriff Keller, too, who had lectured them both about fire safety as well as consideration for those who had _not_ gone swimming in the cold water after dark - and then on observing safer swimming habits.

It had seemed like an awkward constellation of topics to lecture them on, actually, and Jughead figured that was probably in part because Keller was still trying to figure out what was going on with the Serpents at the same time as he was trying to support Kevin and his relationship. It almost made Archie's issues with Veronica look simple.

Jughead pulled open the one large window that had a screen in place. He stopped for a moment to look down at the lake in the moonlight.

And he heard a dog barking.

"Thanks," Archie moaned contentedly as the breeze came into the room.

Jughead stood by the window, listening for a few more minutes.

"Go to bed, creeper." Archie had rolled over again and noticed that he was still by the window.

Jughead climbed into bed, but laid awake for some time.

**00000**

The croissants turned out great. The kayaking was going well too, and Jughead was glad that he and Betty had opted to take out two single kayaks. It was really fun to bump into each other and splash back and forth.

They weren't getting very far, but they were having a blast and it was all helping Jughead shake off his slightly depressed mood after hearing a bark that was just like Trigger's. Talking about him with Betty had probably made it bother him more than it otherwise would have, and Jughead resolved not to bring the dog up again during the vacation.

They eventually brought the kayaks back in, and Brand met them at the water's edge.

"Hey Jones, I'm going to pick up some supplies in town for dinner. Most everyone's going on a hike, but I think we should do the prep this afternoon so that we don't end up with a problem later." Brand pointed toward the lodge. "Plan to meet me in an hour and we'll get started. Hopefully it will turn out as well as those croissants did. _Very_ nice work on those, by the way.

Jughead grinned.

"Want me to stay?" Betty asked Jughead when Brand was walking toward the car. "I was going to hike with Veronica and everyone, but I can totally help cook."

"Nah, it's our thing," Jughead shook his head. "This was the plan we made: I spend some time with just my dad tomorrow, and today I'm spending this time with just Brand."

"Okay," Betty smiled. "I hope you have fun."

"I hope you do, too." Jughead returned her smile. He helped her locate sunscreen and load up a backpack for the lengthy hike that everyone was going on.

Sheriff Keller had insisted that Joaquin and Kevin go along, though neither seemed particularly thrilled with him after his lectures the previous evening. Only Alice and Bryn would be around until Brand got back from shopping.

And then FP realized that was the situation.

**00000**

"I can be left here alone; I won't go anywhere near Alice or Mrs. Carter," Jughead found himself staring down his dad and both Fred and Mary Andrews. "You can hike! Really! Brand will be back in, like, forty-five minutes."

"I'll just stay," Mrs. Andrews offered.

"You did that when we all went out kayaking," FP objected. "I'll stay this time."

"This is time with _Brand_," Jughead made sure there wasn't a whine in his voice, but come on - Brand would definitely be upset if he came back to find his dad hanging around.

"I've got this one," Mr. Andrews waved off the other two decisively. "I could use a break after all of the excitement. I'll just take one of the hammocks so that I'll be out of the way, but close to hand in case anything comes up. Is that okay with everyone?" Mr. Andrews was only looking at FP.

"Yeah. That sounds fine. Thanks, Fred." FP moved so that he was right in front of Jughead, making careful eye contact. "It seems like something happens just about every time I leave you, boy. Let's break the cycle, huh? You go straight to Fred if Alice so much as breathes in your direction. If _anything_ happens. Just pick a hammock and stay there until Brandon gets back."

"Okay, dad," Jughead didn't roll his eyes, but that was mostly because he knew his dad was fully capable of changing the plan on a dime if it looked in any way like he might not comply.

And then everyone left to hike. Mr. Andrews was as good as his word, settling into a hammock with a book.

Jughead decided to raid the kitchen for a snack and then start setting things up for the meal prep while he waited for Brand.

**00000**

Alice had been distracted very potently from her mother's odd phone conversation earlier in the week - and the striking effect that repeating her words had had on Jughead.

But then her mother had asked her not to hike, and suggested that they spend some time together after she finished some work. So Alice chose a spot on the second floor deck that adjoined a number of the bedrooms, and pulled out her book - the same one that Jughead had brought - and curled up in one of the oversized deck chairs to read while she waited.

And her mother had not noticed her sitting there when she got on the phone once again.

"It's the better combination this time; he'll be here alone. He won't be able to walk, so come prepared. I've got a car coming, so Alice and I won't be here."

This sounded… like nothing Alice could begin to understand. She instinctively froze, slowing her breathing and praying that her mother did not see her sitting just outside of their room's open glass door.

"It's all set, yes. It just _happened_, so hurry. You'll have about a fifteen-minute window before Davies gets here. Just make sure that the case against Daniel is destroyed. Completely destroyed."

Alice's breath caught. It still didn't make sense, but a few things were crystal clear: her mother was talking about Jughead, and she was working with someone who was trying to somehow dismantle the court case against her father.

And there was something in there about Jughead not being able to walk.

Alice could only wait, though, since her mother had not left their room and still presumably had a clear view of the deck, though apparently not of her daughter as long as she remained still in the deck chair. It sounded like her mother was rifling through their suitcases.

Or maybe packing.

Her mother had mentioned a timeframe of fifteen minutes before Agent Davies got back. He'd only left about twenty or thirty minutes ago, and had said that he'd be gone for about an hour. That meant there were - hopefully - still fifteen minutes before anything would happen.

Alice tried to breathe. Relax. Remain invisible. She had some time.

And she no longer believed that she was safe with her own mother.

**00000**

Jughead lit up when he saw a plate on the table in the kitchen. It was wrapped up, but a note invited anyone to snack on the chocolate chip cookies. There were only three left, so the hikers must have already raided them.

Pulling over one of the counter-height chairs, Jughead got comfortable and dug in while he thought through the complicated meal prep that he'd soon begin with Brand. He would start getting things ready in the kitchen; Brand would appreciate that.

Jughead ate the last cookie in just two bites and then started exploring the kitchen in search of cooking implements that they had not needed when they'd made the croissants - and therefore had not already located.

And then, while he was crouching in front of a low cabinet, Alice entered the kitchen.

Jughead really hated it when his dad was right.

"Jughead, are you… okay?" Alice looked really worried.

Or maybe scared.

"Uh, yeah." Jughead eyed her odd expression curiously. "Are _you_?"

"I don't know." Alice jumped when they heard a door close upstairs. A car pulled up outside, crunching on the gravel.

"Um," Jughead studied her with concern, but he knew there would be hell to pay if Brand came in and found them talking. "That's probably Brand. He drives really fast. I'm supposed to go out to the hammocks if you, uh, talk to me. Everyone's getting paranoid. I'm sorry."

"Yeah, yeah-," Alice waved him off impatiently. She suddenly seemed to be in a hurry to leave. "I get it; it's fine. It's really… dangerous with the case and all. Just be careful, okay? Stick close to Agent Davies."

Jughead watched her walk away. That was confusing.

He was only more confused as he began pulling out prep bowls and Brand still had not come into the house.

And then he realized that he was becoming more than just confused. His thoughts were becoming muddled. And he was getting tired.

Weirdly tired.

Jughead thought for a moment about going up to his room - getting nearer to the bathroom in case he got sick again - and lying down.

And then he started feeling dizzy.

Jughead grabbed the kitchen table for support. He probably just needed to get to his bedroom, but he recalled his dad's firm orders to 'just pick a hammock.' If he got sick outside it would still be less messy than indoors. And if he got scary sick again, Mr. Andrews would know about it and could help him. And call his dad.

Jughead stumbled out of the kitchen toward the great room. The door closest to the hammocks was near the huge fireplace.

That was when it occurred to him that he might not even make it that far. Jughead tried to pick up his pace, but his legs weren't listening and his brain felt like it was getting fuzzier.

But he did make it outside, and he found that he was somehow still moving forward.

"Jughead?" Fred had noticed the lodge door opening and he looked over from his hammock. "Is everything all right?"

Jughead couldn't form words. It felt a lot like he was getting sick again like before - only without the sick part this time.

"Whoa," Fred was moving quickly toward him now. Another difference: the strobe effect of losing time was less this time around. "Are you okay?"

Jughead lowered himself onto the grass, realizing that otherwise he was risking falling. He looked up at Fred, unable to quite figure out how to speak - but screaming for help in his head.

Someone had drugged him. He was abruptly sure of it. And they must have done it twice. He didn't know how much longer he'd know that, not if whatever it was screwed with his memory. Alice had said something weird, too-

Fred sat on the ground next to him, holding Jughead up with one arm so that he would not fully collapse, and he began dialing on his phone with his other hand.

"Brandon, something's really wrong with Jughead. I think he's fully conscious, but he can't talk and he's losing the ability to move as we speak. What do I do?"

Jughead was slumping further as he lost control of his limbs, and he felt his neck start to relax. His head lolled backward, and he was suddenly aware that it would be very easy for him to fall into the wrong position and be unable to breathe. He could not turn his head, but his eyes tracked to Mr. Andrews. Hopefully he would realize how bad this was getting and do something to make sure that Jughead didn't suffocate.

Fred shifted his grip higher to partially support his head with his arm. He was listening to Brand on the phone.

"Okay. I'll do that. Hurry."

Fred dropped the phone and started lowering Jughead to the ground, shifting him onto his side before he moved into Jughead's line of sight. That was better; breathing felt easier in that position.

"Can you hear me, Jughead? Brand's going to be here real soon; I'm going to call your dad, too. We'll get you an ambulance first, though. Hang in there." Fred was dialing again.

Jughead kind of wished he would pass out now, but he remained conscious. Which was somehow so much more terrifying.

Mr. Andrews kept talking to him, though, after he'd called 911. After he called his dad.

That helped.

And then Jughead heard the faint sound of a car driving away on the gravel. And, somewhere in the distance, a dog barking.

**00000**

**Eep! And yeah, this time I am well aware that we've got a cliffhanger... ;) I'll look forward to any and all reviews, and be aiming to get the next chapter up and running by the end of the weekend!**

**I hope you're having a great week! :)**

**-Button**


	18. Chapter 18

**This was a fun chapter. I hope you like it!**

**Thank you very much for the wonderful reviews, too!**

**Skyrider45, I'm loving the paranoia. :-D And yay Fred! I adore him, and his less central role in this story has been hard on me. Oh, Jughead's stomach... yep, that was the culprit. :-D I'm glad you liked Jug/Betty's chat, too. Those two are doing surprisingly well in the face of very limited time together; I was glad to see them so happy together! :) Yay for the ramp up! (and yay for Trig getting honorable mention by everyone this week!)**

**Living Lucid Dream, I totally agree with you about Brand/Jug's dynamic. The scene was unfolding and Brand and Fred said stuff, and I was suddenly nodding along as well. A quick review of the tapes, and yep - they've got a point. And yay for the photo! That is one of my favorite moments in that chapter, and something I really wanted to give to Jug. The healing and talking has been so nice; I'm looking forward to everyone being able to relax into their rhythms. But not, of course, without a few "JUGHEAD NO!" moments along the way. :-D It IS totally squirm-worthy (me doing research = a lot of yikes!), and I thought you had the run-down exactly right - complete with many caps when it comes to Trig. ;) So much is riiiiight on the edge for the moment, and I'm looking forward to seeing how it all falls out!**

**Guest, thank you for the lovely review! I was so happy you enjoyed the Betty/Jug conversation, and the happy outing (for once!). :) Poor Alice is definitely right in the middle of everything now. And yay - Jughead is learning! (and FP is figuring out a formula: give VERY SPECIFIC INSTRUCTIONS, haha) Fred is a hero, no question. I've loved having him take more of a role while on vacation. :) And I'm so excited to post the next part for you! :-D**

**Enjoy!**

**-Button**

**00000**

Fred had not given much thought to anything other than the scared teenager in front of him.

An ambulance was on its way, and Fred had managed to get off the phone with 911 so that he could call FP - who had asked him to hold the phone up to Jughead's ear so that he could try to encourage and reassure him before he'd hung up - and based on how breathless he'd sounded, FP had immediately begun running back toward the lodge.

Fred had also realized that the paralysis was progressing. Jughead's position on his side continued to shift - and that meant the drugs posed a threat to Jughead's breathing and his heart.

Fred was confident that he could keep Jughead alive for a little while if his muscles relaxed so much that he simply stopped breathing, but he had no idea whether he could do CPR effectively enough - for long enough - that the paramedics would have time to get to their remote location on the lake and revive Jughead if his heart stopped beating.

Every breath was a reprieve from having to find out. And all of that was more than enough to keep Fred occupied.

Until he heard movement in the great room.

Fred's head snapped up, and he was almost shocked when every instinct told him that it was not help. Suddenly FP's paranoia - maybe even Brandon's paranoia - seemed not only contagious, but wise.

The Carters were presumably inside, but they would have come straight out to help. Unless Bryn had been the one…

Fred found that he could not finish that thought and stay focused on what he needed to do.

He had to believe that the Carters were inside, and that they would help once they realized what was going on. Fred would not summon them, and that was as far as he was willing to go in his speculations while he was the sole person standing between Jughead and the unknown effects and time course of whatever he'd been dosed with.

It really felt like someone was watching them, though.

Fred tried to think through the situation calmly. If someone had expected Jughead to be alone except for the Carters - as he very nearly had been - then the odds were decent that only one person would have come for him. They might not want to tangle with Fred, which was almost laughable to him - but it made some sense. They might not be armed, as they were likely not prepared to deal with anyone who was not drugged into total helplessness.

All of which only meant that any attacker was not prepared _yet_.

Fred could think of a whole lot of ways this could go down if there was an intruder - a kidnapper willing to chance a murder charge - sizing him up from behind the wall of one-way glass that the semi-reflective windows had turned into now that the afternoon sun shone from an angle.

The lowest windows were open, which was why he'd heard the sound in the great room at all, but Fred couldn't see much of anything by looking through those spare gaps from the bright day into the dimmer lodge.

His phone rang, and Fred swiped at it to put it on speakerphone when he saw that it was Brand. He wanted his hands free; he was crouched so that he was nearer to Jughead, but he was reluctant to sit down again.

"You're both there? You're still okay?" Brand sounded anxious.

"So far." Fred shot a look toward the glass doors of the lodge again. "Brand-,"

"Repeat after me, Fred. 'I'm not comfortable firing your sidearm, but I'm not an idiot and I will if I need to.'"

"You are on speakerphone." Fred looked down at Jughead. They needed to watch what they said in front of him; this was already scary enough.

"Brilliant." Brand raised his voice: "Then you and Jones will both hear me assure you that I will handle all of the paperwork if you shoot someone in the head with my service weapon. The right leg is also acceptable. It's handy that I brought it in the outer pocket of my suitcase, huh? If anyone comes near, you keep them on the property. Do not let _anyone_ leave, Fred."

Fred nodded firmly at the phone, though he had a feeling it was too late to retrieve anything from Brand's room - not to mention attempting that would tip off any enemy to the fact that there was an unsecured gun on the property. Having it used against them was probably not Brand's goal.

They were going to have to bluff their way through any danger lurking on the property.

"I'm officially comfortable with firing your sidearm. Thanks."

"I'm getting close. You could wing 'em and I'll handle it from there. Just empty the clip. Bullets are cheap, and the paperwork's basically the same for one bullet or all of 'em."

"Uh-huh." Fred knew better than to roll his eyes in case someone was watching - and just as able to hear them as Fred had been able to hear their movement indoors. Also, Brand had some reason to suspect that even if Fred literally had a loaded gun in his hands they might want the added protection of some theatrics; he had a much clearer idea of what might help than Fred did. Now was not the time to push back.

"You've got a nine mil at home, right? And I know you've taken out critters in the back yard with a rifle. You'll be fine." Brand kept talking, making up stuff that was clearly meant to deter anyone who came close enough to overhear - and also to signal right away that Fred was supposedly carrying a gun, even if a would-be attacker caught only a few words of the conversation.

Fred looked down to where Jughead was tracking him with his eyes and gave him a reassuring smile that he was not feeling. Not even a little bit. "Just like shooting womp rats back home."

"Cute. Now, the first time you shoot a human, it's natural to feel some hesitation. I'll need to you override that. There are a few tricks that worked for me when I was starting out..."

Brand kept the conversation going in that highly disturbing vein until he was closer to the lodge.

"I've got you covered now. If anyone's on the property at this point, they won't be able to get off unless they're on foot, and I can't see them carrying Jones any distance. You can hang up the holster, Fred."

"Great. That's a relief." Another relief was that Jughead was still breathing - and there had been no more sounds from the lodge. "You'll have to teach me more about firing your sidearm sometime."

"You bet." Brand's tone was full of approval before he hung up.

**00000**

Brand was glad that the car they'd been given use of for the trip had excellent performance. Particularly when he had to swerve to avoid hitting FP, who had cut from the trail to the road instead of attempting to hike all the way back to the lodge. Which was really smart, actually.

Even with the excellent performance, there was still an impressive amount of rubber left on the road when Brand had brought the vehicle to a full stop.

"Let's _go_, FP!" Brand yelled, even though he could see for himself that his words were unnecessary. They were pulling into the lodge's gravel driveway moments later.

Fred had been very specific, so they knew just where to go - and Jones was perfectly positioned so that he would not choke if he became sick.

They were getting good at this.

What a horrifying thought.

Brand noted approvingly that FP immediately gave him space to check Jones' breathing and pulse, and as soon as he was sure that the kid was stable for the moment, Brand returned the favor and nudged FP toward Jones.

"You should sit with him, FP. He doesn't look like he's getting sick, and if Fred's right then this is insanely scary for him. He might be locked in, and fully conscious. Keep one hand where you can feel his breath and you let me know the moment it stops - or does anything funky, for that matter." Brand rubbed the back of his neck. "This right here… this is why they pay anesthesiologists the big bucks. Using paralytics in doses like this outside of an OR is tantamount to murder. It's-,"

"_Brandon_," Fred's interjection was strained.

Brand cut himself off, recalling with a start the reason for Fred's interruption. "And he can hear us."

Fred was literally wringing his hands, obviously relieved to have them take over, but he was also hovering nearby and ready to pitch in - and clearly very protective of Jones, which Brand appreciated.

FP's hands were shaking as he sat down on the grass, and he seemed grateful when Brand helped him shift Jones into a more seated position, leaning back against his chest.

"His eyes are tracking," Brand felt almost panicked when he saw that. Fred nodded in mute confirmation; Jughead was conscious and unable to move or communicate. This was the stuff of nightmares.

"You're okay, kid. This will wear off, and probably quickly." Brand vaguely recalled permanent locked-in states being caused by drug overdoses, but they were thankfully nowhere near having to consider that possibility. Not yet. "Your dad's got you. We're going to keep you breathing, and the rest is just a waiting game."

Brand assessed FP's position and the kid's limbs. If anything was pinched, awkward, or in pain, Jones wouldn't be able to tell them. Brand straightened out Jones' left leg.

FP ran a hand through the kid's hair.

"Don't do that, FP," Brand cautioned. "He can't tell us if anything hurts. We could torture him without realizing it." FP suddenly looked horrified - and like he was about to drop Jones on the ground. "Just... be careful."

Too much time had elapsed, and there was still no sound of sirens - they were pretty far out in the less densely populated summer home part of the area - but the upshot was that it had been long enough that Brand suspected that the paramedics would be unnecessary. Jones was visibly breathing deeply and evenly, so whatever was in the mix of paralytic and other agents that he'd been dosed with was probably not going to kill him.

It had just made him the world's easiest grab for anyone who wanted to take him from the lodge. In broad daylight. With Fred right here and Brand no more than twenty minutes away from returning.

It was an opportunity, sure, but not even close to ideal - it would have been like threading a needle to pull it off, even with the benefit of a whole lot of up-to-the-minute information.

Which was why they had _not_ pulled it off. Brand needed to remind himself of that, because right now it felt like they'd failed big time.

Instead, Brand should be acknowledging to himself that this was a serious attack - maybe even professional in its execution, despite the reckless use of paralytics - and Fred had just pulled off a veritable coup by stopping what had almost certainly been set into motion by someone they trusted, on behalf of someone who knew what they were doing and had probably been lying in wait for any opportunity. If this was the best opening that a professional had thought they would get, then they should probably be proud of that.

Yeah, that line of thinking wasn't helping him feel any calmer.

"Where are the Carters? Nobody else could have worked out the timing on this," Brand growled. "Fred, you call the cops again and take a look inside. Do _not_ let them leave."

Brand realized that he hadn't truly expected anything else when Fred returned with the report that both Bryn and Alice were gone. Their room was empty. Brand had Fred explain their suspicions to the police. They needed to be looking for those two right away.

"Did Bryn try this the first night we were here?" FP was distraught, but he was clearly also using this time to think things through.

"Uh," Brand _really_ didn't want to explain how he knew this, though he would if he had to, "if she did, that was a much lower dose... and probably had something in it to make the kid compliant that Jones doesn't tolerate so well."

Oh, well, never mind - apparently he didn't need to explain. FP's irate expression was making that abundantly clear.

"Don't suffocate him," Brand adjusted FP's arm where it had tightened over the kid's chest. "He's weaker than you can imagine right now. I need you to tell me if his breathing changes, FP. Focus."

Brand met FP's glare with a serious look of his own. This was not a time for fighting in the ranks. "And talk to him, not me. He's got to be scared out of his mind. They had to take the calming, sedating stuff out of whatever they gave him, so this is just..."

Brand's eyes dropped, and he was suddenly locked into terrified eye contact with Jones. His stomach clenched. It was so much easier to pretend that he was just unconscious.

"Hey, kid. Fred's getting the cops after the Carters. Hopefully you'll be able to talk soon and we can get the whole story, but we've got enough for now. Just stay calm and wait; recite the ABC's and Shakespeare, remember? You're right here with me and your dad, and nobody else is coming anywhere near you while you're down." Brand looked up when the paramedics - finally - rounded the building. "Um, except for them, but we'll make that quick."

Brand made a pain of himself by trying to maintain eye contact throughout the examination when he realized that Jones was continuing to track him.

"No - don't let go of him, FP," Brand advised when the paramedics complained about the position. "Keep letting him know that you're protecting him."

FP leaned forward to murmur in the kid's ear, and Brand was relieved when Jones finally broke his desperate eye contact with his godfather. Hopefully that meant he was relaxing. Coming out of his panic. Whatever was happening in the kid's head was calming down.

And Brand could finally - finally - look away and take a few deep, shaky breaths of his own.

**00000**

"Hey, you're okay. I'm right here. You're safe."

Brand woke up to someone rubbing his back. Then a hand ran through his hair. "Jones, if you don't get back in your bed right this second, I will tuck you in. And you will _not_ like it."

FP started laughing from the recliner that he'd opted to sleep in for a second time. It must actually be really comfortable, since he'd declined Brand's offer to take a turn in it. Or maybe FP just wanted to be less than a foot away from Jones' bed; that was also possible.

They'd all been pretty freaked out, even as the drugs had worn off and the kid slowly regained control of his body... and when FP had started to let go of Jones, he'd begun clinging to his father to keep him from moving away while he was still partially paralyzed.

Just watching that had given Brand a nasty tension headache.

"You were having a nightmare, Brand," Jones' tone was mostly amused, but he sounded a little concerned as well. "This is what we _do_ when someone is having a nightmare." He tried for another swipe through Brand's hair, but Brand caught his hand in time. Little punk.

"Not if we value life and limb, we don't," FP was still laughing, but more quietly now; he had apparently remembered that people were trying to sleep in the other bedrooms.

Because people had finally, _finally_ gone to bed after needing a whole lot more managing and hand-holding than Brand had ever wanted to do for anyone.

Fred had helped. Okay, he'd probably done most of it. But Betty had imprinted on Brand, and as much as he liked her, Brand did not like tears. And there had been a few of those. And some clinging from that quarter as well.

Honestly, Jones was going to need all the sleep he could get in order to rest up before he confronted all of his friends and his girlfriend in the morning. They were intense.

"How are you feeling, Jones? Are you hearing things?" Brand sat up in his bed and draped an arm over the kid's shoulders. They felt reassuringly strong, and when Brand shifted Jones' position slightly on the bed there was a lot more resistance in his relaxed limbs than the kid had been able to manage even with conscious effort while the drugs had still been wearing off.

"Oh, you were definitely having a nightmare," FP confirmed. "You woke us both up."

Huh.

"Did I say anything interesting?" It seemed like fair play, given how much time everyone had spent pulling this on Jones. Brand could let him analyze his godfather's bad dream. "Any words of wisdom for me, kid?"

"You are quite possibly more freaked out about my being drugged than I am." Jones leaned into Brand's chest. "It sounds like this is _your_ secret phobia."

Brand let his arm fall further around his shoulders as the kid practically snuggled into him. That seemed fair, too; after all, he'd been the one who (accidentally) conditioned Jones to expect physical affection after a bad scare.

"Makes sense. I like being in control of situations." Brand rubbed the kid's back through his T-shirt, hoping he wasn't doing it awkwardly. "Are you sure you're okay? You want to go curl up with your dad or something?" FP had that whole gang-member manly-hugging thing down, and his more domestic version for Jones had to be better than this.

"Am I going to be afraid of being alone forever?"

Well, _that_ was apropos of nothing. And everything.

"Betty did not seem aware of an imminent breakup when she was crying earlier because of how much she cares about you," Brand replied dryly.

"You're leaving, and my dad has to work."

"The great tragedy of humanity, kid," Brand kept rubbing his back. "You do know that for the most part drug-laced cookies are not something you have to worry about, right?"

Bryn Carter had really gotten Jones' number. When the kid had floated theories on how he'd been drugged, there was no question in anyone's mind as to whether it had been the mystery 'leftover cookies' that nobody else had seen or touched.

There remained only the question of whether Jones had dosed himself once - or three times, as was quite possible if Carter had not assumed he'd eat all of the cookies. That would certainly explain why the paralytics had come frighteningly close to stopping his breathing - and his heart. Unless that had been another bad reaction.

Maybe now FP would agree to getting genetic testing done on the kid.

"Can we pick up some microwave dinners at the store tomorrow?"

Brand could not even formulate a response to that.

Neither could FP, apparently.

"I'm not allowed to drive the rental car," Jones spoke again when he did not get an answer. "I'll need a ride."

"You're not eating frozen food, kid," Brand finally managed. "That will kill you faster than anyone who's out to get you."

FP snorted.

They were all silent for a few moments.

Brand wondered if they'd be facing a hunger strike in the morning. It hadn't seemed suspicious when Jones turned down food earlier - they'd assumed that he wasn't feeling great - but now Brand was pretty sure that the kid was hungry. And scared to eat.

"Do you think they were the ones writing the notes?" Jones asked. "The Carters, or whoever they were working with?"

That 'whoever' was the big problem now. Though that unknown enemy had felt the need to work with an insider, it was not assured that they'd back off now that the plan had fallen apart and the Carters had made a break for it.

"Presumably," Brand shrugged. "There is actually an upper limit to how many things can go wrong. I promise."

"Don't promise. You always keep your promises, Brand," Jones was still leaning into him. "Don't stop doing that now."

Man. This kid. He could still knock him sideways, without even trying. And it _really_ couldn't be healthy for him to be this attached to someone like Brand.

"I can't stay in Riverdale, kid," Brand figured it was time for a reminder - and he recalled something that FP had warned him about as well, "and if you get yourself into trouble to try and force me to stay, I'll teach your father how to put you in a time-out so that he and I can actually go to work."

This time FP's snort was darker.

"Can you FaceTime when you're at work?" Jones seemed to think this was a viable solution.

"Huh. Can I have 'Jones TV' on around the clock? Let me think about that." Brand tousled his hair. "You need to go back to counseling."

"I still go, Brand."

"You need to go more."

This time Jones snorted.

"I'm going to ask you something, and you need to not make me regret it, okay?" Brand figured that tackling this head on was likely to be their only good option.

"I can only promise to try." Jones already had snark in his tone. Fantastic.

"What would make you feel safe?" Brand braced himself.

"Nothing." His tone was matter of fact.

"Well played," Brand rolled his eyes, "and very helpful."

"Nobody is ever safe, Brand," Jones was lecturing him now. "You're _actually_ asking what would make me feel secure enough to lead a more normal existence."

"Yeah, you're definitely still in therapy. And now that we've got that cleared up," Brand knocked lightly on Jones' skull, "what would do that for you?"

"Trigger and speed dial."

Just like that. Brand's eyes narrowed.

"You've been thinking about this, huh?"

"It's not a surprise that you're leaving, Brand," Jones shrugged against him.

FP was being awfully quiet.

"Do you want another dog in the house, FP? I've been offered the option of expensing a puppy for Jones." Brand figured that was the best he could do on replacing the monster. "We'll get your speed dial set up in the morning. I don't even know how that works on a cell phone - isn't it all speed dial? -, but we'll come up with something. Let's make it a deep list so you know that you always have someone."

Brand rubbed his knuckles over Jones' spine for emphasis as he continued. "I'll be real low on the list, because I'll be in a _different_ _country_. You call me last, kid, unless you're having a cooking emergency - one that does not involve fire."

"We can get another dog." FP sounded subdued but not unhappy, which made sense; that dog had always liked him better, anyway.

Jones finally pried himself out of Brand's armpit.

And hugged him.

There could be only one response to this much affection.

Jones yelped when they landed on the floor, but he had better night vision and Brand quickly had a fight on his hands. The drugs must have worked their magic and moved on quickly - or maybe twelve hours was about right; it was pretty late, come to think of it - because when Brand went for a pin, Jones slipped out of it easily.

They grappled for position, and when the hardwood floor proved more slippery than expected, Jones wound up underneath Brand's bed; Brand reached for him and the kid squared his shoulders, lifting the bed a few inches in the process before thinking better of making a defense there - and the bed slammed loudly back into place when Jones instead tried to escape to the relative safety of the other side of the bed. The stone fireplace was over there, though, and was likely to be a hazard in the dark.

Brand hauled Jones back by one arm, the smooth floor giving the kid very little purchase for resisting; Jones was laughing at his own desperate attempts to stop his inexorable slide across the floor by the time Brand got him clear of the bedframe.

"What are you two _doing_?" FP was getting out of the recliner.

"Sneak attack!" Jones was distracted by calling over to his father for just long enough that Brand almost had him. And then the kid contorted, did something he couldn't quite catch in the dark - and then Brand was the one who was pinned.

"Hey, FP, turn on the light," Brand started laughing. "You wanted to see the kid get the best of me this week. Here's your big chance."

"_Finally_." FP's grin was audible.

**00000**

After FP had convinced everyone else in the lodge to stand down, explaining that Brandon had been the 'violent intruder' making all the noise, and no, Jughead was not in any shape to talk to people yet - they still had to wait until morning, so go back to bed - they all went back to sleep.

The morning glowed vividly when they woke up early, still feeling a surplus of adrenaline and hypervigilance, and Jughead wandered over to the window to see more clearly the dramatic reflection of red sky on the lake.

And then he was running out of the room.

"What did you do to my son?" FP was in the bathroom, looking for his bath towel in the pile of swim towels. They needed to do some laundry.

"Nothing. He just took off."

A few moments later they heard a nearby window creak open to the deck outside of their room. Brandon opened one of the screenless windows that served as their access to the deck and climbed through to investigate.

He turned back a moment later. "Hey, FP, keep it down but come out here."

Jughead was leaning over the railing and had his camera aimed down at an adult moose and two calves that were leisurely picking their way across the property.

Brandon let him get a few shots and then touched his arm and pointed out the bull, at more of a distance but making his way up toward the lodge as well.

None of the moose seemed to be in any hurry, and as the sun climbed a little higher they were lit up among the vivid leaves they were eating.

Archie followed them out first, presumably because Jughead had torn through their shared room to get his camera. Within fifteen minutes everyone was out on the deck watching the moose take their stroll through the landscape.

Betty joined Jughead, who handed the camera over to Brandon and then put an arm around her in greeting and reassurance. Brand and FP hadn't let anyone other than Fred and the paramedics see him incapacitated, and they'd let the paralytics wear off in the privacy of Brand and FP's bedroom. Even Fred hadn't seen Jughead while he'd recovered.

It had bothered the others but seemed important for as long as Jughead couldn't tell them what he wanted. Now Jughead nuzzled Betty's hair and she curled into him.

Fred approached Jughead at the deck railing and stood silently beside him, looking down at the moose. When Jughead noticed him there he gave Betty a quick squeeze and then turned to Fred and opened his arms in a shy, almost apologetic invitation.

As he pulled Jughead in tightly, Fred cupped one hand around the back of his head - and was suddenly overwhelmed when he realized that this was the first time that he'd really hugged Jughead since his disappearance the previous fall.

They stood that way for a few moments before Fred realized that he was not the only one sniffling. It was probably Mary, though, and not Jughead - who simply said "Thanks for scaring off the womp rats" and then held onto Fred a little more tightly.

After stepping back from the embrace, they both turned back to watch the moose's slow progress. Fred wiped one eye quickly, and Jughead wrapped an arm around Betty again. Archie and Veronica move to join them then as well.

FP was glad that everyone was getting this low-key reunion before the questions began. He walked over to where Mary was standing next to Tom.

"Pretty spectacular, huh?" FP said quietly to Mary and Tom, gesturing to the scene below them. He wasn't convinced that they'd spook the moose by speaking more loudly, but didn't want to take any chances.

"We couldn't have special ordered a more perfect morning," Mary said warmly. "All we need is some coffee." The adults all murmured in agreement. "Speaking of which, I'm planning to take over the cooking for today, FP. Do you think Jughead would like to help?"

FP blinked in surprise at the thoughtful offer. He looked over at Jughead, who was nudging Betty and pointing out one of the omnipresent deer in the distance with a smirk. FP looked back at Mary. "You know, I think he might. I'll send him down once he's showered. It will probably work best if you don't start without him."

Mary nodded sympathetically. "I'll get fresh packages of everything, too."

FP had another idea. "You want to take Brandon off my hands?"

Mary smiled. "Sure. I can put him to work."

This morning was getting better and better.

**00000**

Roy refreshed his messages again.

Nothing.

This was deeply troubling; either he had misread the situation entirely and things had changed a whole lot more than he'd realized - perhaps Brand had only been interested in the interview and the optics, and didn't care if the kid disappeared or died now that he was back to living with his father -, or else Brand _still _was not taking the threats seriously.

But in what universe would he think that Jones dosing himself with paralytics had been an accident?

Granted, Bryn had done something _very _screwy with them, and Roy took a moment to thank his lucky stars once again that he wasn't getting updates about the kid from an obituary.

But none of that squared with the fact that Brand had apparently left a freaking _armed guard_ at the lodge.

Getting Jones off of the property without being recognized had suddenly required a whole lot more than a strip of duct tape over the kid's eyes. And abandoning that plan had necessitated Roy's erasure of his clever trail of breadcrumbs leading to the fall guy. The idiot with the dog.

The idiot's plan of posing as an FBI agent would almost certainly have been giveaway enough - but Roy was not willing to take chances. Things were just too weird. And now he'd have to implement his third and final plan.

Roy supposed that it was possible that Brand had understood the attack, located the message, and opted to delay responding.

Except that responding was mutually advantageous. And Brand simply did not _do _delays; this was a man who had taken on side jobs with Jones lying drugged in the bedroom of a trailer. Brand appreciated the fine art of multitasking.

No; at this point Roy had to assume that Brand had not gotten the message. And, regardless, he still needed to get some kind of a trail leading to his fall guy. Fast.

The idiot felt relatively safe since he'd never interacted with Bryn, but he would not stay in Michigan for more than a day or so to wrap things up. The group vacation might end real quickly, too. Now that the plan to have Jones "wake up in the custody of the FBI" had failed, Roy was running out of time.

The last ditch plan was expensive, and risky with so many people involved on his end (not to mention how many were in the lodge), but Roy had thought it through.

The bread crumbs would be incredibly simple to leave, too, since the fall guy did not realize that Roy had figured out where he was staying. He must have some serious connections; he'd secured a vacation property within just a short hike of the lodge.

It was hard to believe he was even contemplating this plan. Roy felt like he'd graduated. He'd been forced to adapt, and he was rising to the challenge.

The payout had better be everything that he hoped.

**00000**

Jughead didn't really mind the sympathy he was getting from every direction, and he figured that being on meal prep for the rest of the trip was a good workaround since Brand was still refusing to let him buy pre-packaged meals - and it was even sort of a relief that the worst had finally happened with the notes. Maybe that whole situation was fully resolved. Finally.

It was Alice he was worried about now. She'd definitely tried to warn him, whether she'd actually known what was going on or just sensed that something was wrong with her mother. And Bryn was clearly unstable at best.

And so, Jughead brooded. Right up until Sheriff Keller got a call about the Carters.

They'd been picked up.

That meant that Alice was now alone, and would have had nowhere to go... except that Bryn told the police that Hermione Lodge had offered to take Alice in if anything ever happened to her mother.

It turned out to be true; Hermione confirmed it when the police called her.

Veronica was not entirely surprised that her mother had said that to a family friend about their child, since loyalty was very big in her family and extended to their circle of close family friends, but she was clearly in some shock about it actually happening - let alone in this manner, and under these circumstances.

And with Alice Carter.

Jughead was kind of in shock, too, and he wasn't the one getting a 'sort-of sister,' as Archie had put it. The phrase had made Veronica look worried for a few moments, before she became determinedly welcoming and supportive in every way.

Now Sheriff Keller was going to make the long drive - well, it might be less long with him driving, or so Jughead assumed - to pick up Alice.

Keller had welcomed Fred and Mary Andrews' offer to go along to lend friendly, parental support and make it perfectly clear that the sins of her mother did not transfer to Alice. They'd take her to the airport so that she could fly to Riverdale right away and be met by Hermione, and then the adults would return to the lodge the following morning so they wouldn't have to move everyone's flights around.

The network's photographer was also arriving in the morning. Sheriff Keller and Archie's parents joked about having to do all of this driving and not even getting to miss that.

So, just like that, they went to take Alice away from her mother - or away from whoever had taken her into custody when her mother was arrested - and to send her off, alone, to live with someone else's mother.

Jughead had a lot of sympathy for the upheaval that was happening right now for Alice, and which would continue for months.

Or forever.

Because Alice would never have the opportunity to go back to Riverdale and experience reunification with family and friends. Not the way he had.

**00000**

Everyone was trying to distract Jughead from what had happened, and what was playing out even now with Alice.

Betty in particular tried to help him get at least a little bit back into vacation mode, saying that since they'd all be on the trip for at least a little while longer, he should at least enjoy the hammocks - even if he didn't feel like doing much else. He could read, relax, or just _obsess_ there as well as anywhere.

Brand had also made an attempt; he tried to convince Jughead to come train with him and Archie on the swim raft.

At first Archie had been worried about training so soon after Jughead had been attacked, but that had inspired Brand to comment that maybe with Jughead partly out of commission Archie would have a shot at holding his own - especially with how he'd been 'malingering' with respect to the tiny stitches in his arm. So now it was _on_.

"Dude, we never got to work out secret moves," Archie said to Jughead as he climbed the ladder to join his friend on the swim raft. Brand was hauling himself up the side again, which looked just as impressive this time as it had at the beginning of the week.

"Too late now," Jughead shrugged. "Just distract him and I'll try to take him out."

Archie scoffed. "That's a _terrible _plan."

And it was.

Brand took it easy for the first bout, grappling playfully with Jughead while he evaded Archie's first pass without difficulty. When Archie came after him more forcefully, Brand maneuvered Jughead toward the edge of the deck and tripped Archie dramatically to knock him off of the raft and out of the round.

When Archie had the bright idea of getting back up before Jughead was out - and hopefully prolonging the bout to an eventual win - Brand made a point of dumping Jughead into the water between Archie and the raft's ladder.

"Yeah, taking on Brand is no joke. And neither of us is at full speed," Jughead said when he resurfaced and saw that Archie's eyes were wide. "Come on, let's try again."

They got into position for a second round, and Jughead decided to try their plan of letting Archie take the lead and seeing if Jughead could then take out Brand while he was distracted.

Brand saw that coming a mile away, and he simply put Archie into a headlock before waving Jughead in. "Want to do this just like we did with your dad, kid?"

Jughead frowned, but he gave it a shot. Brand managed to dump them both into the lake together, and Jughead regretted that he was on the bottom when they hit the water.

Archie tried to pull him to the surface, which did not help at all.

"Do not help me swim." Jughead was gasping for air when he surfaced after wrenching his forearm free from Archie's determined grip. "If I'm literally unconscious, you can _maybe _pull me in to shore. But seriously, my arm? Just let Brand fish me out. Or let me drown. That hurt."

Brand was smirking down at them. "Need me to go get you some water wings? You two seem to like it down there an awful lot."

They were both glaring when they got up for the next bout.

Archie was actually better at sparring when he was angry, and they did well that time. Jughead came very close to knocking Brand off of the raft, and Archie almost swept Brand's feet at the moment of truth. But then Brand jerked Jughead into Archie, who went flying - and instinctively grabbed his friend, taking Jughead with him when he went into the lake.

It was difficult to tell who was more amused by that one: Archie and Brand both had to take a breather while they laughed.

Jughead and Archie did manage to knock Brand into the water once, but that was definitely an accident: Jughead collided with Archie before they'd even made contact with Brand, and when Archie lost his footing he grabbed Brand awkwardly as he fell into the lake. Brand maintained that he only fell because he had been 'surprised by their incompetence.' His exact words.

That time Jughead laughed too.

They claimed it as their win, and Archie suggested loudly that he was the champ who had made it happen. Every time he said anything about it, Brand agreed wholeheartedly that nobody else could be quite so surprisingly incompetent - and Jughead didn't miss when Archie had a small smile in response to the teasing and encouraged Brand's ribbing by bragging even more.

Apparently he and Brand were bonding.

And Brand had been right. Training was kind of the perfect breather from everything, and Jughead was content to stay out on the raft, sparring until he was exhausted. That turned out to be sooner than when Brand or Archie were similarly worn out, likely due to the drugs' lingering effects, so after they swam back to shore Jughead claimed a hammock while those two went to secure the climbing gear and stash it somewhere handy for later that night. They were planning to prank FP and, despite the inappropriate timing, Brand and Archie were united on another subject: both insisted that meant that FP would never see it coming.

Jughead couldn't argue with that logic.

Betty spotted what they were up to and joined Jughead at the hammocks with a smile. "Feeling better?"

"I'm trashed now, but yeah - definitely a lot better. Any word from Veronica's mother or from Alice?" Jughead tried to make room in the hammock for Betty, but it was proving very difficult as the fabric simply shifted with him. "Maybe just hop in and we can figure it out that way," Jughead finally offered.

Betty raised an eyebrow and just sat on the edge of the hammock instead of trying to lie in it alongside Jughead. "No word yet. Veronica's been on the phone with her mother, and she's being her usual self: supportive, generous, and probably more involved than is entirely healthy. It's sweet, though."

Jughead shook his head in disbelief. "It's so weird. Everything's changed again. I can probably even talk to Alice in public now."

"Yeah, _that's_ what changed," Betty laughed and patted Jughead on the knee. She thought about it further. "I don't know, though. I assume so, since it's possible that everything she did was because of Bryn. That would explain so much."

"Yep," Jughead sighed heavily. "I guess there was no way of making it right sooner, but it really sucks that things were messed up for so long, and we never... helped."

"Oh, sure. _Absolutely_," Betty agreed with a very ironic tone, "particularly for - oh, I don't know, everyone _other_ than you?"

"What do you mean?" Jughead shot her a confused look. "I was ground zero for pretty much all of this mess."

"You only got back from debriefing a couple of months ago. Weeks, really," Betty shook her head. "The rest of us had months longer, and a whole lot less keeping us from being nicer to her. You fought _everyone_ to make sure that she had a friend and was - at least somewhat - okay."

"That is way, way too much credit for what actually happened," Jughead bit his lip uncomfortably. "And it is not a line when I say that I only did what anyone else would have done. I'm not even sure it was anything but selfish."

"Oka-ay... But still, any question of mixed intentions aside," Betty looked at him earnestly, "I'm not sure how much she'll welcome my friendship after everything - and I'm really going to try to be there for her and for Veronica - but I do know that she'll welcome yours. You've been there for her even when you couldn't actually be there."

Jughead thought about that. He thought again about the brief conversation he'd had with Alice in the kitchen. "Maybe."

They both looked up when they heard a piercing whistle.

Brand was on the roof of the lodge, waving down at them.

"My camera's on the ground over there," Jughead pointed. "I think we're gonna need some blackmail material."

Betty retrieved the camera and got a few shots before Brand saw what she was doing and swiftly lowered himself to hang from the edge of the roof - and then dropped easily to the second story deck.

"He's so ridiculous. I'm really going to miss him." Betty set the camera back down.

"He'll visit." Jughead motioned Betty back over to the hammock. "Eventually he'll have to do something other than paperwork for his job, and he claims he won't have a whole lot of time then, but I think I can swing a weekend or two a year. Maybe more."

"Good." Betty raised her eyebrows meaningfully. "He needs you."

Jughead laughed. "That's another thing you should say to his face. I dare you."

Betty just smiled.

**00000**

**Whoa. I know. This time I should just be surprised that the chapter isn't even LONGER. I'll be looking forward to any and all reviews! This story is definitely getting there,** **and I'm having a great time, but the process is always SO enhanced by hearing your thoughts - and also just hearing that you're reading along. I hope you're having a wonderful weekend!**

**-Button**


	19. Chapter 19

**And here we go! :)**

**Thank you for the great review, Skyrider45! Also, I was thinking about something you mentioned in your post - I literally have this massive running doc (or three) with 'deleted scenes.' They don't fit (many represent plot directions I discarded), but I thought you might relate. There's less to take in with this chapter (you're welcome? ;), but I think it holds together. We shall see! I'm glad the description was vivid (and yeah, horrifying), and the moose was a highlight for me also. :) Aaaand we have the wind-up! :-D The Alice/Jug parallels make my heart hurt, too. The fact that Jug is realizing how lucky he is to have everyone (including FP), and that Alice has lost all of that represent two difficult realizations. But Jug being able to stay connected with Fred and Betty helps it not be just a survivor's guilt thing. Jug isn't taking people for granted. Archie and Brand have turned a corner, I agree - and nice eye for foreshadowing... ;) I'm so glad you're pumped, and also that at least one person isn't feeling whiplashed by crazy inconsistent chapter lengths. Whew!**

**Awww, Living Lucid Dream, best review ever! :-D Jug is finally learning (I give FP some credit for being firm with his instructions) and that kept (some) bad things from happening. Crisis averted! For once! :) I'm glad you liked the speakerphone part, too - it was so fun to write. :) I think Brand has liked Jug since BCBC and by the end of AWP he'd bonded (a lot) more than he fully realized/intended. And yeah, at this point he might have a weakness - and it might make him vulnerable; that's a very good point. The fear of food hurts my heart, too. That really does get at something visceral for Jug in particular (and humans generally!). Brand teaching him to cook will hopefully help. Yes about the pin! I'm really glad you caught that. :-D Roy is a wild card... and he does escalate quickly. I think he's got less experience than Brand in some ways, so he's figuring it out as he goes. Great read of Alice - she's in a tougher spot than Jughead, but there's potential for things to begin changing soon. We'll see how it goes! Archie bonding (finally) with Brand was fun, and a relief (that did take a while!). Also, yes... "HM." ;) **

**Thank you for the lovely review, Guest! Fred is SO nice, I agree. I adore him (obviously), and my favorite part of your review was your description of smiling when he and Jug hugged. That was a highlight for me last chapter. :) The paralysis thing is terrifying (yikes!), I agree, and it was nice having things not go quite so badly with that incident. Everyone is learning, even if you caught an important moment as well: FP is still very aware of how things began with Brand, even though he's also getting more comfortable with Brand and Jug interacting (I love your observation about how FP lets them have their 'sneak attack' and doesn't get upset). Brand really is becoming part of the group. He's even getting sweet in some ways (awww!), which is neat to see! I'm so glad you're excited, and it makes me so happy that you're enjoying the series. :-D**

**Enjoy!**

**-Button**

**00000**

Everyone was feeling more energetic by the time Brand and Jughead began cooking a late dinner that evening.

Part of it was definitely due to the relative lack of adult supervision.

Another part seemed to be related to the literal electricity in the air and the way in which the breeze had picked up, making it feel as if the whole world was rushing around in excited preparation for the dramatic storm that was approaching.

Jughead had suggested making breakfast for dinner and immediately been inundated with volunteers to make omelettes to order - in part because Brand had started telling the story of Jughead's memorably terrible omelette-making in Toronto, but also just so they could make the food more quickly. It was getting late, and more than just the storm had darkened the sky.

The kitchen quickly filled with banter and laughter. They ended up eating around the kitchen table, some standing or leaning on the counter when they ran out of chairs, instead of moving out into the dining room where they'd eaten all of their other meals.

"Has anyone taken a look at the movie collection?" FP asked as they started considering options for rainy evening activities.

"There's a video game collection, too," Archie countered. "That big-screen would be great for some of the multiplayer games they've got here."

"If anyone wants to use my laptop for a movie, that's cool. I'd be up for gaming on the TV," Joaquin offered. "We can set up a tournament with four players on at a time."

"Well, I'm watching a movie," Veronica said. "Do they have _Karate Kid_? I've never actually seen it, and apparently I need to in order to fully appreciate Brand and Jughead's interview."

"No!" Jughead's loud protest was barely audible over the shouts of laughter and teasing that immediately ensued.

"We could just have Jughead and Brand reenact the whole thing," Betty suggested, shooting Brand a teasing grin. "A stage production is exactly what this vacation needs."

If anyone had wondered whether they'd be able to get fully back into vacation mode after the events of the previous day, the excited cacophony of voices in the kitchen set that question fully to rest.

"Nah - Brand wouldn't dare," Jughead got in on the teasing then. "He _hates_ being upstaged."

"Oh, is _that _what happened on live TV?" Brand laughed and grabbed for Jughead. "You weren't just off-script, _way _off-course, and completely off your rocker?"

FP moved to intervene when Brand managed to catch Jughead and pull him into a headlock, but it turned out that he didn't need to. Even Brand could see how worn out Jughead was after the full day. Brand let him resume clearing the table after briefly tousling his hair.

And then, just as everyone was hurrying to get the last of the food put away and the dishes into the dishwasher so that they could begin the activities in the great room, the lights went out.

A momentary hush fell over the kitchen.

"Oh my god, we _have_ to play hide and seek!" Kevin's excited voice broke the silence.

"Just sit tight." FP started moving out of the almost pitch dark kitchen. "Brand, do we know where the breakers are? The storm isn't even here yet, so I think we must have overloaded something."

"Hey, you just called me-," Brand's voice was mirthful.

"Davies, let's _go_." FP had made it out of the kitchen, and his tone was serious. "We'll be back in a few minutes. Do _not_ light another fire, DeSantos. I will skin you alive if you overheat this house again."

"Yes, _sir_," Joaquin had a teasing tone, and Jughead was surprised to hear affection in his voice as well. It made him suddenly wonder if his dad was kind of… Joaquin's Brand.

Which was a very weird thought.

A few minutes later they heard FP and Brand knocking around upstairs in search of a flashlight.

The teens' eyes were adjusting, though. And then a single bolt of lightning lit up the great room through the wall of windows facing the lake.

"Hide and seek, you said?" Archie sounded mischievous. "Let's make a plan. I'm pretty sure it's going to take them a while to even find a flashlight unless Brand has one stashed somewhere handy."

Just then a light appeared in the upstairs hallway, and FP and Brand began making their way downstairs toward the basement.

"Okay, so he's got tools for _everything_ stashed somewhere. Let's still wait and see - we could totally get the drop on them. We should spread out around the house and then jump out when they come looking."

"And _die_?" Jughead's eyes were huge. "Brand wouldn't even think twice about killing someone who tried that. You can_not_ try to jump him unless you really know what you're doing."

"We can just yell something and not, like, attack them. What did you think I even _meant_? I'm thinking no more violent video games for you, young man." Archie's enthusiasm was unabated. "We just need to figure out how to lure them upstairs, since the doors and the deck are - oh my god, the rock climbing gear." Archie grabbed his best friend by the shoulders. "Jughead, Brand will be impressed for _the rest of your life_ if you pull this off."

Betty was immediately protesting, but right away Jughead was more interested in that idea than in Archie's original one. "We can take a look if they don't come back right away. Where will everyone else go?"

Veronica was laughing along with Archie's enthusiasm and her amusement was clearly egging him on as they all climbed the stairs from the great room and began assessing the house's layout from their new perspective. "Is there an attic? Betty and I could see what we could do with that. It sounds a little safer, but potentially very effective."

"Maybe, V." Betty wanted to hear all of the options first, but already she thought that was a better idea than jumping out at either adult and, worst case scenario, they could just wait out the game. "Or we could try the basement."

"They're in the basement right now," Kevin reported from the staircase. "I'll let you know if they come back up. What else have we got for options?"

"The Carters' room," Joaquin's voice was filled with glee. "And if we can somehow start them off looking in there, they won't know _what_ to expect."

"Just don't make it too real, or too serious," Jughead objected again. "You _will_ end up dead and there might not even be any questions later."

"We'll look out for ourselves, Jughead," Joaquin retorted. "You just watch your own back."

Jughead could hear the mocking tone in his voice, but there was actually a whole lot less of it than before. Who knew; this might be the bonding experience that helped everything along between them.

"Psst!" Kevin signaled them from the staircase and everyone fell silent.

"Where _are _you?" FP called from the kitchen. "Jughead? Joaquin?"

"We're finding some board games," Kevin called back. He shrugged apologetically up at the group, but they nodded encouragingly - that was good thinking. "In case the power's out for the night."

FP seemed to consider that, and then he called out again. "Sounds good. We're going outside to try and find the breakers. Don't destroy anything while we're gone. Especially yourselves."

The front door opened and then closed.

"Any light switch you see on, turn it off as you go," Kevin suggested. "That will slow them down once they get the power back on."

Another lightning strike lit up the great room.

"And maybe don't go on the roof, you guys," Kevin added, his tone becoming concerned.

"We'll just use the gear off the side of the deck," Jughead assured him. "That will be more than dramatic enough in the dark."

"We'll go down to the basement," Veronica grabbed Betty's arm, and they started down the stairs. The basement was finished, and divided into a maze of recreation-themed rooms. There was a pool table as well as foosball and ping pong, and a number of seating areas that would provide good cover - and the doors adjoining the rooms to the hallways as well as to each other would provide a lot of means for escape should this turn into any sort of chase game later in the evening.

There were also three or four exits out to the yard on either end of the lodge, so they'd be able to meet up with their boyfriends easily when they were rappelling the twenty feet or so down from the upper deck.

Jughead grinned into the dark. "All right. Let's get 'em good."

**00000**

Brand led the way around the front of the lodge. It was a large building and the trees and landscaping around it were dense, making their search challenging - but presumably the breaker box was not well hidden. "You think we should be worried about whatever they're doing in there?"

"We're turning the lights back on, Brandon," FP responded. "Even if Kevin has high hopes of running around in the dark, they all know that the moment the power's back on it's game over. My guess is that they're actually looking for board games."

Brand wasn't so sure they had thought it through to that conclusion, and he was having a hard time picturing the rowdy group settling down to play Monopoly, but he was potently distracted when he caught sight of the breaker box in a gap between some pristinely tended spruce trees. "There it is. And it's not even raining yet; fantastic."

FP's eyebrows lowered when he got closer and looked inside the breaker box. "No, this is not fantastic, Brandon. Someone cut the power manually. We need to get this fixed and get back inside; in fact, why don't you call Tom Keller right now."

That was when three men stepped out of the trees surrounding them, lighting them up with powerful flashlights. The men's faces were hidden behind ski masks - but even with the sudden light half blinding Brand and FP, their guns were fully visible.

**00000**

Jughead and Archie were having a great time harnessing up and getting the ropes assembled; Archie had taught Jughead how to tie double figure-eight knots. Jughead was a little nervous that they would make a mistake, but reassured himself that they'd only be lowering themselves off of the deck - just about twenty feet or so - and they'd be landing on the lawn and not concrete.

Getting into position was taking them longer than they'd expected, though, and they were keeping a careful eye out for Brand or FP, since they really didn't want the sneak attack to be reversed on them if any of their friends decided that it would be funny to turn traitor. Thankfully they all seemed to be getting a lot more time than they'd hoped for. The breaker box must really be hidden.

By the time they had the harnesses and ropes ready to go, their biggest worry was that the rain might not hold off long enough for them to get a chance to pull their prank.

**00000**

Brand had a few ideas for what to do next, and had it been the other Jones with him, he would not have hesitated. He could predict the kid, and if Brand yelled to hit the deck then Jones would be on the ground instantly - hopefully before any bullets flew, and maybe even taking one of the men down with him.

But it wasn't the kid. And in the moments he took figuring out how to proceed, Brand was given reason to wonder if these three knew more about them than they should: one very specifically grabbed FP, who was not the more convenient target based on their relative position, and pulled him a few reluctant, stumbling steps away from Brand and into the darkness.

They were picking off the weaker one first, and doing so almost effortlessly. It should not have been quite _that_ apparent which of them that was. And when they eventually made a move into closer range, no doubt giving Brand some sort of opening to fight back, it was going to be that much harder for him.

One gun was still aimed at Brand, but from too much of a distance for him to try anything at the moment. Another was aimed at FP.

The attacker who had lowered his weapon was tying FP's arms behind him with a length of narrow black rope, quickly and easily restraining him from elbow to wrist. FP winced uncomfortably as his shoulders were put under obvious tension, but he did not resist.

"My wallet's in my back pocket," FP offered meekly. Brand hadn't known he could do meek. "There are car keys in my left front pocket. It's the silver one parked in the driveway."

Brand wanted to roll his eyes at the hopeless naiveté that made FP think that they could throw a bone to these guys and just walk away. Nobody had spoken yet to ask any questions about them or the property, and that suggested that they were not robbing them - or getting them safely tucked out of the way in order to more easily loot a high-end vacation spot - and Brand had very little hope that this was not directly related to what had happened the previous day with Jones and the Carters, even though Roy's warning had not indicated that anything along these lines might be coming.

Maybe Brand should have followed up with him right away.

But Brand had opted to delay his response for a couple of reasons, even though renewing his relationship with Roy acting as a contact and informant was not a bad idea; Roy had his resources, and they were clearly not all the same as Brand's. Two things caused Brand to hesitate: Roy had never liked the kid, and he had a lead on the dog.

Both of those were risky factors to bring into proximity to Jones, and both could wait a few more days so that Brand could tackle them from Toronto. He'd be safe distance from the kid when he met with Roy, and there would be almost no chance of Jones somehow discovering that the dog was supposedly alive - and then going off half-cocked.

None of which was going to matter if Brand couldn't protect the kid from a home invasion right now. And FP was not helping.

Although, come to think of it, FP really _did_ sound hopelessly naïve, which might be a worthwhile strategy in and of itself. The man might have a few more surprises in him yet.

"Don't _give_ them the car keys," Brand contributed, letting some of his very genuine anxiety come through in his voice. "Insurance might not cover it if you just hand them over."

"Shut up." One of the masked men motioned for Brand to march ahead of them, around the building toward the lake side of the lodge. Brand tried to gauge how serious they might be about shooting FP if Brand made a break for the lodge. Even if they did put a bullet in him, FP would probably understand; they had to protect the teens.

Brand found himself hesitating again, though. If the masked men were just looking to ransom someone, this would all make sense: timing their attack with the storm, the whole thing. The thunder would play well as a cover for any unexpected noise, and rich tourists coming out to check on an external breaker box would make an easy target.

Except that they'd known to grab FP first. Brand still didn't like what that suggested.

"He's got money," FP spoke again. Apparently they'd had much the same thought - the same hope. "Be careful with him, though. The kidnapping insurance folks will get nervous if he's hurt. I've got a wife and kids; I've got assets. They'll pay to get me back. This is just… our time-out away from work."

Oh god. It was not quite the same thought after all. FP seemed to think that they could tempt the men into a change of plans, and lead them away from the lodge... and he had apparently taken the 'willing hostage' interpretation of Jones' code very literally.

If these were hired guns coming after the kid, they'd have to be _very _bold to bite at a new, more lucrative opportunity and abandon their employer's original plan. And it would be extremely tricky for them to go rogue and set up a ransom drop on the fly. Dangling that possibility in front of men who were not fully prepared to take the massive risks necessary for keeping ransomees alive - returning them intact - could easily send them all down a very bad path.

And that was leaving aside the fact that they were now lying about being the type of people who just happened to have kidnapping insurance, which would mean being held for an outlandish figure at best.

But FP was probably right: they needed to dangle a _really _big payout or this would never work. So Brand kept his mouth shut.

He did think it was kind of touching that FP had made a pitch for Brand being the one that they couldn't rough up, should it come to that. It was also really stupid, facts being what they were.

Not that he was going to argue with him now, in case the story had actually flown with anyone.

"Over to the dock."

Maybe it had.

They were being marched toward a small inflatable boat. Darn him and his crazy instincts; FP might have been onto something after all.

When they got to the craft, FP was motioned into the boat first and then his ankles and knees were bound.

Only then did they turn to tie up Brand, and the three lasered their focus on him in a way that they hadn't with FP. And once again it all seemed suspiciously targeted.

And professional. Jones would definitely classify this tie as 'wait.' Brand probably would as well, were he alone, but he wondered if having FP with him might help with that. Hopefully they would not be split up.

It was downright bizarre to feel a strong sense of relief when Brand was ushered into the small boat and his ankles and knees were likewise bound - and then they pushed off into the water.

One of the men produced some heavy fabric strips, twisted them together, and then gagged them both tightly and very effectively. The man went through their pockets as well, which was more than a little uncomfortable - and surprisingly irritating when he didn't even look at the wallets, cell phones, keys, and knives, opting instead to throw everything straight into the choppy water. The lake was getting very rough as the storm approached.

Nevertheless, it _was_ a relief: the craft was riding almost worryingly low in the water with five adult passengers, and apparently they would not rev up the motor in earnest until they were further out, but they were moving away from the lodge. Away from the teens.

And then they stopped.

At the swim raft.

"Get 'em out."

Ah. This was altogether too clever, and Brand wasn't sure he saw a good way out of it. Not yet, anyway.

Brand literally held his breath as FP was manhandled - protesting through his gag and fighting desperately now that he'd also realized what was about to happen - from the low boat onto the much-higher raft. If this was what it really, _really_ seemed like it was, and they were being gotten out of the way so the men could go after the teens - after Jones - unimpeded, then nobody was going to risk their own neck and come after them if they fell into the rough water and started to drown.

In fact, they were very lucky that wasn't plan A.

When FP was safely on the raft - and Brand was breathing once more - they tied his wrists to his ankles and it was assured that nothing good would happen if he did fall into the water. Brand had been drown-proofed, but even for him there was a limit - and they were pretty far out on the lake. He'd probably manage to stay alive for a while, but he'd never make it to shore. Certainly not in a storm. And Brand guessed that even an excellent swimming ability like FP's would afford him no such advantage if he ended up in the water while he was so stringently bound.

Brand tried to make it a whole lot easier for the men to get him onto the raft without dropping him. He stood up willingly, though someone was already reaching for his feet. But even so the man who grasped his upper body forced him toward the raft too hard - probably because he was still recalling FP's exertions. Brand stumbled on his bound legs and then the third man - the one who had tied their arms so expertly, taken up the stern of the boat, and who issued orders like he was in charge of the trio - reached to steady him. And they were suddenly face to face.

And Brand recognized him, right through his mask: it was a gun for hire who liked to work near the border. He was known to both the FBI and Brand's agency.

In the interests of not ending up in the water, Brand kept his expression blank and let his eyes slide away. But there was now no question in his mind how they'd gotten their information. Or why the men hadn't been interested in turning on their employer.

All of those notes made sense now.

The men lifted Brand onto the raft and the two hired guns produced more rope and pulled him into a hog-tie before they got back into their boat - and started back toward the shore.

Brand squinted toward the lodge, but with the power cut off, he couldn't make out much of anything.

But even in the darkness Brand could see that FP was fighting against his bonds - and moving quite a bit in the process. He didn't seem to be aware that the men had dumped him a little too soon out of frustration; they'd left him lying awkwardly on his side, facing the interior of the raft, and with his back far too close to the edge of the deck for his agitated movements to be anything approaching safe.

Brand began to struggle toward FP, calling through his gag to get the man's attention.

The teens might be on their own, at least for the time being, but Brand could try to keep one person from dying needlessly tonight.

**00000**

**Cliffhanger! I'm really looking forward to the next chapter, too. And to any and all reviews. :) Thank you so much for continuing to read, and for your notes along the way. They are such an encouragement!**

**I hope you are looking forward to a lovely weekend!**

**-Button**


	20. Chapter 20

**No pressure, right...? but TFW you have set up for a big action chapter and there miiiiight be expectations... :-D I hope you enjoy!**

**Skyrider45, thank you for the great review - and I'm with you: yay action! And lots of it! I'm so glad you liked the setup. Pulling it all together was exciting, and I hope you enjoy. :) Saturday morning cartoons, oh yes - I love that image, and the chaos and energy. :-D And I'm so glad you zeroed in on that line about Joaquin and FP - and that it made sense and pulled some threads together. It's not simple getting out of the Southside! Brand's very confident, but I thought you were wise to reserve judgment about the notes. That is a great idea about saving scenes for later, too. I raid my docs from time to time, mostly for particular lines or exchanges, but I bet a full scene will come in handy at some point. :) (ahhh, nerding out - social aspects of writing can be the best!)**

**Guest, I've also been thinking a lot about season 1 FP and Joaquin. It's spare, but tantalizing and (I agree!) fascinating. And yeah, I think Brand keeps on top of information most of the time - it's his day job (and his other day job), and he's got a lot of professional pride - but he was also VERY occupied during that timeframe, so I can see why you thought otherwise. I love(!) the anticipation and am so glad you are looking forward to all of the action! It puts the pressure on, but that's good, right? It will make everything that much better... :) Thanks so much for continuing to read!**

**And oh man, Living Lucid Dream, your compliment (hopefully not complaint!) about a "cliffhanger to end all cliffhangers" added more flourishes than ever before to my bow. Thank you! :-D I'm also delighted(!) that people zeroed in on the Joaquin/FP line. I've been thinking about that for a while (obviously), and I've been very aware of that dynamic in the background as Jug, FP, and Brand work things out in this story - even though Jughead is only just realizing some of the potential implications for Joaquin (et al.). I SO love your stream of consciousness narrations, too - this one was great (why didn't they listen to you?!), and I think there can be tactical advantages to splitting up (maybe?), but the setup is very horror-film-esque, for sure. :-D I was glad you liked the Brand explanation moment, too - that had been bugging me as well, since there just hadn't been a great spot to share that info, but Brand doesn't leave information on the table and I think we all know that about him at this point. I'll look forward to hearing your thoughts on this chapter. :)**

**As always: enjoy!**

**-Button**

**00000**

Veronica and Betty were surprised and not entirely sure how to react when the door to the basement opened.

They were nowhere near as invested in the game as the boys, and they had not anticipated being the first ones called upon to prank FP and Brand. This was awkward at best, and potentially dangerous; Jughead had been really nervous about people getting injured, and he'd made some very good points about Brand's violent instincts.

They took one look at each other, and it was agreed: they would not give anything away, spoiling the boys' fun, but neither would they be jumping out at anyone.

A few moments later they had several good reasons to be extremely grateful that they'd made that call.

**00000**

Jughead and Archie were pretty sure that they were about to be poured on. They were discussing the merits of going back inside and giving up on the plan, abandoning all of their hard work, when Archie's phone dinged.

"Archie, are you serious?" Jughead gestured at the phone. "At least turn your ringer off if we're still going to do this."

"It's from Veronica," Archie turned off his ringer and pulled up the text. "Uh, Jug, come take a look at this."

It was a weird text accompanying a very dark photo of two masked men - who were clearly not FP and Brand. Veronica was asking 'Do those look like guns to you?'

"The power's still out." Jughead reacted immediately, grabbing Archie's arm and pulling him toward one of the doors from the deck into the house. "That means my dad and Brand are still out there. We have to go help them."

"Whoa! Jug, no." Archie grabbed onto Jughead in return and tried to stop their movement toward the door. "Guys with guns are inside, and your dad and Brand are outside. We're outside. The girls are in the basement, so they can get outside. We just need to get Kevin and Joaquin, and they are right in the Carters' room; we can get them from the window. We're not going back in the lodge."

Jughead's mind was racing as he took just a moment to think that over. "Yeah. Good call. Okay, let's get Joaquin and Kevin."

That was when someone fired a gun - on the other side of the wall right beside them, in one of the bedrooms.

"Nope; too late - we're going down. Right now." Archie grabbed Jughead's arm again and this time his best friend did not resist, though he was looking back over his shoulder toward the bedrooms as they moved toward the railing.

They'd set everything up so that they could both rappel down from the deck at the same time, though their setup did violate a few of Brand's admonitions about best practices for safe rappelling. Their ropes were black, and therefore basically invisible in the darkness, which had seemed strategic before - and now seemed incredibly lucky.

They had barely made it under the deck and were dangling freely in their harnesses when Jughead realized that someone was on the ground below them, just a few yards away. He engaged the small metal descender he was using to brake, grabbed Archie's shoulder, and pointed.

They stopped.

It was really windy now, and they were only partly sheltered by the deck above, but this might be the safest possible place for them. Even if someone thought to look up, they'd both likely be invisible in the pitch dark of the deck's underside, thanks to the power outage.

Jughead was still holding onto Archie's shoulder while he covered his brake with his other hand to make absolutely sure that nothing slipped; Archie reached over to grab onto his shoulder as well. They tried to remain as still as possible as they swung in the gusts of wind and hoped that any sounds coming from the ropes against the deck would be covered by the sounds of the approaching storm.

When lightning lit up the sky again, they both jerked in their harnesses. Hopefully that would not happen while anyone was looking up.

**00000**

FP felt Brand trying to reach his wrists again, and tried to angle his arms more helpfully. Frustratingly, it was impossible to return the favor and work on Brandon's bonds at the same time, but FP hoped they'd be able to pick up speed once one of them - FP, apparently - was freed.

They needed to hurry. The teens were alone, unprotected, and it had been long enough that anything might already be happening.

Lightning lit everything up again.

There was very little chance that the teens would not be all together, getting ready to wait out the storm as a group. They'd be tragically easy pickings.

"We really need to get this guy," Brand's voice was rough with anger. "He's not going to give up."

FP had been less successful in dislodging his own gag, but he grunted his muffled, emphatic agreement.

They were silent for a few moments, Brand still working to figure out the knots. He growled when his fingers slipped off of the ropes. "We are _screwed_."

FP closed his eyes and leaned his head back in helpless frustration.

Agreeing with Brandon still felt wrong, but he was afraid that they were on the same page: this was _really_ not good.

Now that Brandon had gotten a look at some mercenary he'd recognized as having a relationship (and apparently not a good one) with the FBI, Brandon was convinced that it was Agent Russell who had come for Jughead and arranged for him to be drugged.

It boggled the mind, but Brandon was insisting that Russell was the only likely suspect - someone who would have access to information, knowledge of capable criminals for hire, and the necessary resources - and his involvement would certainly explain Bryn Carter's complicity. Russell would have made promises about the court case, and FP wasn't stupid: he knew as well as Brandon that there was a high-profile bust to be made here. And anyone who was willing to take this route to get Jughead alone for questioning would not allow him to stay silent this time.

It made FP sick to think about Jug going to prison.

He would almost certainly be tried as an adult if Russell managed to build a case that overcame all of the claims of 'duress' and 'fearing for his life' that they'd have to make as a defense (complete with lurid stories that would no doubt be as suspect to a jury as they would be traumatizing for Jughead to have to share), and all of the aggressive news coverage that had come before would make his boy a tempting target for any judge who was in the mood to make an example. Thanks to Brandon, there were not only guns but multiple _bodies_ associated with Jughead's actions and his lies - his perjury - about his time in Toronto.

Daniel Carter would go free, too, because his son had lied and lied to protect the kidnapper who had stepped up and done what FP could not: saved Jughead's life. More than once.

The man had even gone along with FP's plan and willingly allowed himself to be abducted in order to steer gunmen away from the lodge, and was even now trying to free FP so that they could go face down those gunmen once again, together, in an attempt to protect Jughead from one more round of fallout from all of the bad decisions FP had made that had led to Blossom hiring Brandon in the first place.

Apparently this sort of situation did not make FP's life flash before his eyes - it gave him the most excruciating clarity possible on subjects that he really didn't want to look at closely.

And anything that followed would happen so that some slick, self-important FBI agent could get a promotion. Or whatever it was he was after.

FP was also very worried about what kind of 'resources' might be available to Russell, though it now seemed much more likely that the teens would be in one piece when Brandon and FP eventually got to them. The FBI were not known for their mass murders of civilians.

Trying to focus on that thought, instead of all of the evidence that this was like nothing he'd ever heard of involving an FBI agent, FP took a deep breath and let it out slowly.

And then the shooting began.

**00000**

Betty and Veronica waited for a reply text. None came.

And then a shot rang out above them; it sounded like it might have been fired on the second floor.

They grabbed each other, both panicked, as if confirming bodily that they had actually heard what they thought they'd heard.

"Call 911," Betty took charge almost immediately. "We don't have anything we can fight back with. Not as long as they're shooting. We need to change that. And we need to find out how many there are, and where they are."

"And where the boys are." Veronica dialed swiftly.

More shots rang out. Veronica looked up at the ceiling, distraught.

"Hopefully that's a good sign, V," Betty was moving around the room, looking for anything useful that they had available to them and trying to think through a plan - any plan - for how to figure out what was going on. "They must have missed."

"Or they found more of the guys," Veronica's tone was dark. She focused her attention on the phone, explaining quickly and quietly to the operator what they thought was going on and where they were located.

Betty considered their options; there were definitely intruders upstairs, whom they had seen come in through the basement doors. There might be armed intruders on the first floor, but that was the floor with the most exits. If those weren't all covered, which would take a relatively large number of people, then knowing which doors were still free and clear would be helpful information when the police arrived.

It was something they could probably establish fairly easily, even from a distance. They'd just circle the lodge and stay out of sight as they did so.

Veronica finished her hushed conversation with the operator and left the line open - but set the phone on the floor. "What are you thinking? You look like you have an idea."

"We're going outside," Betty was decisive. "There might be more people out there, but if we're careful we can probably get clear of the house and into the woods - and then we can get some information."

"Agent Davies and Mr. Jones are out there too," Veronica nodded. "They might be able to help. If they're okay."

Betty bit her lip. Lightning lit up the sky again.

"All right. Let's go."

They turned toward the nearest exit - and both took an instinctive step backward when footsteps fell on the stairs. A silhouetted figure was descending into the basement between them and that door.

They dropped silently to their hands and knees and exchanged panicked looks. Veronica pointed to her phone, now lying a few feet away from them with an open line to the 911 operator. It could make a sound at any time; they needed to get away from it.

They crawled swiftly into an adjoining room and underneath the pool table. This room was not a dead end, but it was close; they'd be only more exposed if they went out into the longer hallway that was barely visible through the other doorway. They paused, waiting and listening for movement.

There was none. They had no idea where the man was. But they were fairly certain that he was armed.

Veronica motioned for Betty to remove her shoes, and moments later they were crouching together in their socks, shoes in their hands.

Every breath seemed too loud.

And then the phone squawked, and they heard heavy footsteps move in that direction.

Betty grabbed Veronica's hand, and they made a very hushed run for it.

They made it most of the way down the hallway before they heard the footsteps moving back toward them. They ducked through the open door directly to their left and scrambled behind a massive leather couch that was pushed against a wall but shaped so that there was a roomy gap behind it.

Too late they realized that they had trapped themselves there; if they were discovered, they would have nowhere to run.

After a few moments of silence there was a frustrated noise and it was almost funny when both Veronica and Betty both pressed a hand over the other's face - before they each realized that the sound had not come from the other.

Which meant that the armed intruder was _right there_, standing almost directly over them.

Wide-eyed, they did not move their hands down until the door to the room closed and they were absolutely certain that heavy footfalls had moved away from them.

When they silently emerged from behind the couch, they could have cried with relief: this room had a door that led directly outside.

They gratefully slipped out of the lodge, into the darkness and the first drops of rain.

**00000**

Archie patted Jughead's shoulder where he'd been gripping his friend and pointed down. The man was moving away from them and seemed to be on his phone. It had started to rain painfully hard, so maybe he would go inside and give them a chance to make it to the ground.

Jughead pulled his own phone out of his pocket and held it as close to his body as he was able, texting a quick message and their location to 911 before he tucked his phone away again so that the glow would not attract any attention.

They didn't move any lower, but they watched the man walk further away. It looked like he might even be walking around the building.

Gunfire erupted above them once again, and they were glad when there was no lightning to allow anyone to see them flinch. The rain was noisy enough that they were less worried about the noise of the ropes, too, which was a relief.

As much as anything could be a relief.

**00000**

Circling the lodge while maintaining a wary distance took Veronica and Betty a surprisingly long time. There was not a lot of cover on the lake side of the building, so there in particular they had to maintain a wide berth in order to stay far enough from the lodge that there was no chance of being spotted in the dark.

The rain did not have much of a ramp up between the first few drops and then coming down in torrents, either. The girls were drenched almost immediately, and visibility was tougher for them - but they could not guarantee it was as affected for anyone who had shelter.

Betty was glad when they had nearly completed a circuit of the building and had not yet seen anyone. Then, as they skirted carefully around the driveway to avoid being out in the open for any length of time, they saw one of the men; it might even be the one who had come down into the basement, if he'd exited through a different door from the one they'd used.

He was wearing a mask and had a flashlight, and it looked like he was approaching the circuit box that Brandon and FP had gone to find.

"He's going to turn the lights back on," Betty whispered. "That probably means that the guys are okay. They can't find them in the dark."

"They were shooting at _something_, Betty," Veronica responded in a strained whisper. She wasn't entirely sure why she was insisting on the worst case scenario, but for some reason she felt very strongly that it needed to be acknowledged. Maybe as if saying it out loud would keep it from actually coming to pass.

Or maybe because Betty getting Jughead back from the dead sometimes felt like it must have used up all of the luck they could possibly have. It was strange the way that Jughead's reappearance had seemed to make Betty an optimist, while in some ways it had made Veronica... fearful.

Veronica tried to squelch her dark urge, since it really wasn't helping. "Sorry. Hopefully you're right; they certainly haven't found whatever they're looking for."

"Jughead." Betty had thought about that already. "This has to be whoever was working with the Carters. Which means they probably haven't found Archie either."

"Kevin - and Joaquin -," Veronica wanted to feel relieved at Betty's words, but instead it felt so much worse to put names with the friends who had most likely been under fire.

And then, as if in response to their whispered conversation, more shots were fired. A _lot_ more shots.

And then the lights came back on.

Sort of.

It looked like none of the interior lights went on, even though the power had clearly been restored. They must have been pretty thorough with their game. All of the exterior lights were suddenly blazing, though, and Veronica jerked back further behind the treeline that they'd been hugging as they made their cautious circuit of the building.

Betty pulled out her phone, deciding it was time for a second call to the police. They had an update.

When the man began making his way around the building again, Veronica and Betty followed at a careful distance.

**00000**

Brand seriously considered leaving FP gagged when he realized how much effort it was going to take to untie each other. They were going to be out here for a while in the pouring rain and whipping wind.

It was becoming more helpful by the minute that the raft sat so high out of the water; there were actual _breakers_ now in the storm-stirred lake. The raft was not particularly likely to be struck by lightning, and there was nothing Brand could do about that risk anyway, so he tried to ignore that cheery thought.

Brand had a feeling he'd be less able to ignore aspects of the situation once FP was able to talk again.

Leaving the man gagged was getting mean, though. FP's jaw had to be aching something fierce from having been held so wide open for so long by the thick fabric. Brand would just have to put up with whatever came after.

Maneuvering himself carefully, Brand got his hands up behind FP's head and had a far easier time untying the gag than he'd had so far with the knots on the ropes.

"Thanks," FP coughed hard, and then didn't stop coughing. Maybe Brand should have done that sooner.

"Allergic to anything that might have been in that gag?"

"Just allergic to being gagged," FP managed, and then he seemed to cough out whatever was irritating him. "What's our plan?"

"We just keep working on these knots," Brand thought that should have been obvious. "We probably can't be heard over the rain, and anyone who tries to help us is likely to run into problems instead of solving them. We don't want to distract the kids if they've gotten clear of the lodge - and we _really_ don't want to see anyone attempt a rescue in this kind of chop."

FP sighed, but it was a resigned sound. "Okay. Want me to take a turn trying?"

They repositioned slightly and FP tried to feel his way around the knots. Brand resisted the urge to coach him, knowing that it was unlikely to be helpful - and would probably just irritate him.

A sudden light on shore startled him, and for a split second he thought that lightning had struck again. Then Brand realized that every one of the lodge's exterior lights had come to life.

"FP, turn around. You've got to see this." Brand's mouth was hanging open, though he could not say whether it was in awe or horror. "They're _rappelling out of the building._"

Jones and Andrews were swiftly descending from the second floor deck in the blazing light that was suddenly illuminating the immediate area surrounding the lodge. Once on the ground, they seemed to take a moment to regroup while they were still lit up - stupid, stupid - and then Jones grabbed Andrews and pulled him away from the lodge.

They were heading toward the water.

**00000**

Betty and Veronica rounded the building and saw their boyfriends making their way from the lodge toward the lake.

The masked man they were following saw them too.

"We have to help," Veronica said to Betty, just loudly enough to make herself heard over the storm. "He'll shoot them."

"Come on; we have to get closer." Betty scanned the ground for any rocks that were small enough to throw, but large enough to do damage. She spotted one and scooped it up. "Grab anything we can use to attack him."

Veronica nodded, grabbing a stone that looked like it might work. The guys were getting closer to the water, and clearly had not noticed that the gunman was closing in right behind them.

And then he grabbed Archie.

There was no time. Betty took aim and threw one of the stones as hard as she could. It fell woefully short.

They needed to get into range. If they could at least distract the man - maybe even injure him - hopefully that would be enough to allow the guys to fight back, even against a gun.

**00000**

"Seriously, we just have to get away from the light. I don't see the girls, which means nobody else can see them either. And if we do find them, we could lead the gunmen straight to them," Jughead was insisting as soon as their feet hit the ground from rappelling swiftly down from their position below the deck when they realized their position had been lit up. They were still in climbing harnesses as he pulled Archie by one arm toward the dock and the shed.

"That guy we saw must have gone inside. Get your phone out. Text Veronica back, but then call 911 in case they can't receive texts." Jughead motioned at the lake. "We'll go to the neighbors for help. Everyone owns guns around here, right? We'll take kayaks. Nobody will see us on the water in all this rain, and that way nobody can follow us."

Jughead heard himself starting to ramble as he explained his plan; Archie was following without resistance anyway, after his initial insistence that they go after the girls first.

But then there was suddenly resistance.

Jughead turned to berate Archie again, this time for jerking back against his grip on his arm and yelping loudly, as if Jughead had been the one to change direction so abruptly. But when he saw what had stopped Archie, Jughead also stopped short.

The man who had been below the deck had apparently not gone far. And he had a gun.

"Jug, _run_," Archie yelled as he writhed in the strong grip of the man who had grabbed him from behind. He kicked back hard, breaking out some of the moves Brand had just taught him, even though the man had a gun pressed up against his ribs.

"Archie, no - he has a gun - _stop_. Stay still," Jughead shouted through the rain, holding a hand out as if that could somehow stop the attacker from shooting his best friend. Brand had long since drilled it into him that you could not outrun a bullet. If you didn't stand a chance against the human element of aiming and pulling the trigger, then you didn't stand a chance at all.

Archie froze. The masked man nodded to Jughead as if in thanks, and then he let go of Archie so that he could toss Jughead a length of rope that had been secured to his belt. He took a step back so that he could cover both boys with the gun. "Tie his hands into the harness."

Jughead caught the rope, but he didn't move when he met Archie's fearful gaze, even when his friend quickly nodded at him and held his wrists out in front of himself. Jughead was pretty sure that once one of them was tied up it would be game over. He didn't want to repeat his mistake with Brand and his dad and turn a fight - two against one - into a hostage situation.

But Brand hadn't said anything about a gun.

"By all means, take your time; it's a lot easier to just shoot you both."

Jughead moved quickly then. He turned Archie's wrists so that the tie would be easier to slip, but he wasn't entirely sure what to do after that. He began wrapping the rope around Archie's wrists and then looped it through the harness. Archie's eyes were getting wider with fear, and Jughead felt his stomach lurch; he knew far too well that feeling of being rendered helpless.

"Do it right, or I'll put a bullet in him, just to be sure."

Jughead yanked on the rope, and Archie yelped a second time as it pulled tight.

"Now turn around. Hands behind your back." The man took a step toward Jughead and lowered his gun slightly.

And shots began firing in their direction.

The man reacted like he'd been hit. He seemed panicked and completely distracted from Archie and Jughead, but when he didn't drop his gun, Jughead tackled him and grabbed for it - hoping that he wasn't throwing himself into the path of bullets in the process.

Archie landed on top of them both, and it was obvious that he was furious - and that Jughead had not managed to restrain his friend in the slightest - when Archie began pummeling their attacker and shoved Jughead clear in the same motion.

The attacker managed to get out from under Archie and ran toward the lodge even though that seemed to be the source of the rain of bullets. Jughead was shocked to find himself still holding the gun while Archie slipped out of the rest of the rope and threw it away from himself.

"Wow, Jug. That was like... Chuck Norris. I mean, if he totally sucked with a rope. Seriously, I thought that guy was going to shoot me because you couldn't tie me up believably. Did Brand skip some crucial lessons? Were you _sick _the week he covered-," Archie sounded vaguely hysterical.

Jughead cut him off. "Can we discuss that later?" He watched Archie step out of his climbing harness and took that as a cue to remove his own. "Come on. The kayaks are probably still our best bet. They definitely know where we are now - and they definitely know we've got a gun."

"But… we do have a gun now. That changes things." Archie held out a hand for it, his expression dark. Jughead shook his head and moved a couple of steps away. This was getting out of hand.

Correction: this was already way out of hand, but it clearly had the potential to get even worse.

Jughead wasn't going to put the handgun in his waistband the way he'd seen Brand carry a firearm without a holster - that looked terrifying, and he wasn't even sure how to engage the safety on the pistol he was now holding - but he _definitely_ was not giving it to Archie.

"The gun changes nothing. We don't even know if it's loaded, and I'm not taking time to check. Come _on_." Jughead led Archie on through the rain, and thankfully he followed without further debate.

They moved quickly to get two one-person kayaks from the shed, and then they struck out on the water - and were immediately surprised by how challenging it was to paddle on the lake in a storm. There were actual waves, and the whole 'wreck diving' concept was taking on new salience for them. The gun washed away from where Jughead had set it in his kayak, and he fervently hoped that they would have no reason to regret its loss.

They were barely past the dock, which had apparently been shielding them from the worst of the waves, when they began to think better of the whole plan. Going back seemed like a terrible idea, but it did not seem likely that they would be able to fight their way to another property in this weather. This was quickly turning into a disaster.

But then they heard voices yelling for them.

"Dad? Brand?!" Jughead shouted back. "Where are you?"

**00000**

The boys had come out in kayaks. In Lake Superior. During a severe thunderstorm.

Thank God.

Jughead had what appeared to be the world's tiniest pocketknife on him, and Brandon would not shut up about buying him a real knife - or maybe six or eight of them, since he was elaborating on all the types that might come in handy in different contexts - but FP was just grateful that he was the one getting the ropes sawed off of him first.

Because Brandon had taken his sweet time helping him with that gag.

Jughead was obviously shaken to his core by the discovery of his father and godfather tied up on the swim raft, and he was apologizing compulsively (who even knew what for at this point) while he worked on the ropes. Archie looked half drowned and was barely hanging on to the raft's ladder in the waves - because this lake had turned deadly - while he clung to the two kayaks for dear life.

Lightning struck a tree just down the shore from them, and the thunder was immediate and deafening.

And for some godforsaken reason someone in the lodge was firing a gun. Again. These were not brief bursts of gunfire, either.

"Maybe get Brand first," Archie called over then. "It might be the girls."

"Bite your tongue, Archie," FP was having none of that. "Davies, I know you've got a gun somewhere."

"Shaving kit," Brandon confirmed. "Check the outer pockets of my suitcase too. I had to move some stuff around after we got here."

"Roger that." FP didn't roll his eyes, since this was coming in very handy. But you'd think he could have secured his firearm in some way before leaving it in a house with a whole pack of teenagers. All of whom should know better, sure, but honestly hadn't shown the best judgment this week.

Which was benefiting them massively in this moment. But still.

FP counted six more apologies from Jughead - most of which seemed to be for not being in better practice at using a tiny knife to free his father from ropes, so at least they were situationally appropriate - before his arms were suddenly free. He seized the knife, hacking a lot more aggressively at the ropes around his knees and ankles than Jughead had been comfortable doing (and stabbed himself quite badly, so yes, there were reasons) and then he was done with that.

FP took a moment to hug his son and reassure himself that Jughead was okay - that he had not been taken away for interrogation and prosecution by a rogue FBI agent or injured in all of the unbelievably aggressive shooting that was going on - while he pressed the bloodied pocketknife gently back into Jughead's shaking hand.

And then he dove into the roiling water.

**00000**

There were a few nasty surprises back at the lodge.

First, the gun was not where Brandon had said it would be.

Second, Joaquin and Kevin maintained that they had both been shot.

There was good news in all of this, though: the gunmen seemed to be gone, and the two boys were up and talking, with no signs of actual bullet holes.

Kevin and Joaquin had been surprised by two armed intruders in the Carters' room (a detail that FP had ignored, not really wanting to know why they'd been in there during a power outage), but that was not when they'd gotten their injuries. They'd somehow gotten clear of the armed men in the dark, realized that they could not safely attempt descending the very exposed staircase, and then Joaquin had guessed correctly that they'd find pay dirt in Brandon's luggage.

FP was definitely having a talk with Brandon.

They had located Brandon's _guns_ (he had not mentioned on the raft that he'd brought three), found a truly massive stash of ammunition, and then (after the error that had injured them both, despite Kevin having been taught to shoot by his father and Joaquin certainly knowing his way around a handgun) they took up position by the windows in FP and Brandon's bedroom.

Between the two of them they'd basically sprayed bullets into the air ("Warning shots," Kevin explained) whenever they thought the intruders were getting too close to them ("Anyone coming near my boyfriend? They're going to think twice."), to the girls during their circuit of the building ("They were stealth; we only saw them because we were watching for them. We knew they'd try to help."), or to discovering Jughead and Archie's rappelling adventure ("_Really_ wish we'd done that too.").

They'd also fired down toward the water when someone had grabbed either Archie or Jughead, which was news to FP; both Kevin and Joaquin were relieved when FP confirmed that Archie and Jughead had gotten away safely ("It was a gamble, but we figured they'd benefit more from the element of surprise. Have you _seen_ Archie on the field?").

Kevin's commentary was reassuring, and the sheer number of ammo boxes that had been spilled all over the floor explained an awful lot.

That was also why the lodge was now empty of intruders, even though the police had yet to arrive.

But the boys had indeed been injured. Apparently the window had not been the first place Joaquin had fired a gun, though FP noticed a distinct change in their body language as they told that part of the story. He immediately suspected that it had actually been Kevin who'd fired a gun indoors - and Joaquin was covering for him. Tom would be upset with Kevin for firing a gun carelessly; Joaquin would likely be praised indiscriminately for anything he'd done this evening.

In any event, the stone fireplace in Brand and FP's bedroom had not come through unscathed, and when Kevin explained to FP that a bullet had ricocheted to hit them both, it was abruptly clear that neither had actually been shot. They had stone fragments embedded in their arms. FP sighed with relief; they needed to be checked out, and there might be some painful wound cleaning and stitches, but they would both be fine.

And the story was already growing, which was probably another good sign.

Kevin and Joaquin were both amped up, sometimes laughing, and definitely in shock. They had not shot anyone, thank heavens, so this would hopefully remain a memory of defending hearth and home instead of something far darker.

Brandon would probably want to lecture them on how foolish it was to pull punches after someone had tried to riddle you with holes (FP was already hearing Brandon's voice in his head), but if it had - god forbid - actually been three FBI agents who had open fired on them, the fact that they hadn't shot a federal agent (even in self defense) would no doubt save them a huge investigation. FP could only imagine what that might have entailed. Especially for Joaquin, who was not the son of a sheriff.

That was also a concern because FP was not one hundred percent sure who had fired the first shot.

The intruders had been _holding_ guns, but that shot into the fireplace might well have been the first one fired. That meant that the boys might have started a gunfight that was entirely avoidable. FP wasn't sure whether he hoped that was true or not - and he was pretty sure that he could live without ever knowing.

FP listened to their war stories in dismay (and with some raw envy, if he was perfectly honest) as he tried to figure out how badly the stone fragments had lodged themselves into their arms. It did not look dire; neither was even bleeding at this point.

It wasn't time to celebrate, but it was time to breathe a little more deeply and easily.

Until FP recalled that the intruders had come in a boat. They'd be leaving in a boat. He looked anxiously toward the wall of windows as he and the two boys made their way down the stairs to the great room.

**00000**

Betty and Veronica had been forced to scramble back up the hill when the gunman had turned away from the boys and come back toward them and toward the lodge, but they'd seen their boyfriends set off on the water in kayaks - which looked terrifying, but very brave.

Veronica and Betty had not expected the boys to come back the same way they'd left, since it had seemed likely that they were headed to find help, and so they had taken shelter under the trees while they came up with an idea for how to help Kevin and Joaquin - or the police arrived. First responders should be arriving any time; it had certainly been long enough, and for at least some of that time the storm should not have affected their ability to get to the lodge.

When the shooting started up again, Betty and Veronica squeezed each other's hands. It seemed likely that Kevin and Joaquin were still alive, but they were painfully aware that one bullet could change that.

And then the gunmen had returned to the water - alone -, bypassing the beach in favor of the dock. A speedboat had roared to life in the dark.

It should have been a relief, but they couldn't help but wonder if that meant Kevin and Joaquin had finally been trapped. Maybe even killed.

Veronica and Betty stepped to the edge of their cover in the woods, listening carefully to try and determine whether everything had really stopped - and they could return to the lodge to try to help.

In that moment of hesitation, Veronica and Betty were shocked to see Mr. Jones emerge from the lake and run up the hill toward the lodge.

It seemed like news of the gunmen's departure was important information to share with him, but he was moving too quickly for them to get his attention - and honestly, they probably did not want to slow him down, since it was likely that he'd be able to do more for Joaquin and Kevin than either of them could. They followed him, though, picking their way over the uneven ground and then moving more swiftly once they reached the smoother yard surrounding the lodge.

They were about to enter the building when Brand caught up to them.

Brand was dripping wet and out of breath - and in response to Betty and Veronica's immediate barrage of questions he simply pointed over the water to where Archie and Jughead were now just barely visible, fighting their way back to shore in their kayaks through the dark waves.

Once he'd gasped for enough air, Brand began issuing orders. "Go help them. Stay away from the lodge and you four get clear of the dock as soon as they're off the water; the shed or the woods will be your best bet. Keller and DeSantos are inside with FP?" The girls nodded, already reassured by his authoritative approach to the situation. "Right. I'll come and get you when the lodge is clear."

"No, Brand - they already left - it's all over-," Betty tried to explain what they'd seen.

"Stay back until I confirm that." Brand was firm. He took one more deep breath and then he disappeared into the lodge.

The girls exchanged looks and then made their way back to the beach.

Archie and Jughead were every bit as wet and cold as Brand when they got to shore, but the girls were almost as chilled from the rain - and neither had any thought of complaining when the boys greeted them with bear hugs.

"We thought you were going to die right in front of us," Veronica said, choking back a sob as she was lifted off her feet by Archie. She closed her eyes tightly as she looped her arms around his neck and pressed her forehead into his while the pouring rain whipped them both. "We threw rocks, trying to hurt that guy who came after you - or even just distract him. Someone was shooting, too."

"You saved us from that guy? He thought he'd been shot; that's how we were able to take him down." Jughead squeezed Betty gratefully, lifting her up for a moment just as Archie had done with Veronica, but when he felt her shivering he quickly changed his approach and wrapped his arms around her so that he could instead draw her against his chest in a more sheltering manner. "Let's get you out of this rain. Is the lodge clear?"

"They left," Betty confirmed. "They had some kind of speedboat that they took off in."

"We didn't even see it out there. This storm is insane." Jughead shook his head in disbelief. "I guess that's a good thing. Hopefully the police can catch them if they don't make it far on the water." Jughead pulled Betty closer to himself. She seemed even colder than he was. "You should go ahead. Get dried off. I'll stash the kayaks in the shed, and then we might even start a fire."

"We're supposed to wait for Brand to-," Betty checked her cellphone without thinking; surely Brand's phone was destroyed if he had been carrying it. "Oh my god, it's Kevin; they're all right. Brand told him to text us that we can go back inside."

"They're not hurt?" Veronica exclaimed.

"He didn't give me any details, but he's texting. I think they must be okay." Betty felt tears join the rain on her face. "We made it, V."

"We can just leave the kayaks here, man. I'm really not that worried about them disappearing or whatever now that we're back on… really wet ground," Archie said. Veronica was still holding onto him.

Jughead shook his head. "Nah; I've got this. They're light, so who knows what could happen in this storm. And don't tell Brand, but I'm just going to put them on the floor of the shed." The virtues of 'the proper treatment of equipment' was one of Brand's favorite rants.

"All right. Be quick; we'll get a fire going." Archie adjusted his arm's position around Veronica and they led Betty toward the lodge.

The kayaks were easy to get into the shed, particularly since Jughead was skipping the step of getting them up into their storage positions. As he closed the door tightly, he figured his friends were just entering the lodge - and he'd be right behind them if he hurried.

Jughead was jogging up toward the lodge when he heard a bark. He paused to listen.

The bark rang out again, and then he thought he could hear a distressed howl.

After everything that had happened, Jughead was surprised by his own energy when he was filled with anger at the realization that someone was neglecting a dog in this storm. He felt himself shivering, and even though he could tell that the rain was slowing as the worst of the storm finally passed, he knew that the dog was probably just as bad off as he was and likely unable to improve its situation - especially if it was tied out somewhere with no shelter.

Jughead could not imagine being able to rest and get warm with the knowledge that a dog was still out in this mess.

Continuing up the hill, Jughead picked up his pace but veered toward the path that led to the neighbors' property. He knew that it couldn't be Trig, but it really sounded like him - and that made him even angrier as he ached for his lost pet.

The barking had sounded close. He could check it out and be back in under five minutes. Ten at the most.

**00000**

"You saw them leave? Brandon said that you two saw them take the boat," FP immediately conferred with Betty and Veronica when they entered the great room of the lodge with Archie.

"They both got into a boat, yeah," Betty confirmed.

Brandon looked up from where he'd been kneeling by a sofa to take a close look at Kevin and Joaquin's injuries. "Hold up. What do you mean, 'both'?"

"The shooter who went upstairs and the one who went outside," Veronica elaborated. "They _both_ left in the boat we saw."

Kevin and Joaquin looked at each other worriedly, and then Kevin spoke: "There were two gunmen in the house, Veronica, and a third guy who stayed outside the whole time. If you only saw two leave, then one could still be around."

Everyone eyed the wall of windows nervously.

"Where's the kid?" Brandon stood up.

"Jughead's right behind us. He went to put the kayaks away, but that was just a minute ago-," Betty stopped when she saw that neither adult was listening.

FP was across the room and reaching for one of the guns when Brandon grabbed his arm to stop him. "You stay here, FP. We can't both go."

"_You_ stay here," FP countered hotly. "He's my son, and we need the one with medical training to keep an eye on those two."

Joaquin and Kevin had been thoroughly assured that they were perfectly fine, and both looked up in alarm at FP's words.

"You're fine; don't move," Brandon snapped at them. "All right, FP. Take my hunting knife too. He's probably okay, but this is _not_ a night for betting. Go get our boy."

FP took the knife along with the gun, but that was mostly to appease Brandon and bypass any further discussion. He was out the door in moments.

FP was dismayed when he found that the kayaks had been dropped in the shed - in direct contravention of all of Brandon's instructions that week - and Jughead was gone.

**00000**

**Whew... I hope you enjoyed! I'll be working hard on the next chapter and looking forward to any and all reviews. :) **

**I hope you're having a great start to the week!**

**-Button**


	21. Chapter 21

**Another chapter! It's been a long road, but we've got some answers coming... :-D**

**Thanks so much for the lovely reviews and faithful reading!**

**Skyrider45, that was super good of you to wait until after work (I love the idea of the chapter being a temptation, as mean as that no doubt sounds... :), and I laughed at your assessment that there could have been more action. Definitely a style difference, though I have a (very roomy) place in my heart for action. When Jughead is discussing a book with Alice in the hammocks, he says it is the goal - and for me that could be any number of writers (Heinlein got me started on writing), but in terms of action it's probably Lev Grossman. I need (far) more talent to pull that off, but then again everyone in the world pretty much does. :) I haven't tried superhero writing at all, and I think that would be a reach for me - which probably means I should try it out sometime. :) Kevin as Rambo is my new favorite mental image. Wow. :-D Jughead's still learning (it's a process!), and I think FP might have words with him... Maybe. That is a great idea for collecting particular quotes, too; I will have to try that at some point. :)**

**Living Lucid Dream, I am right there with you about the harnesses. The "nowhere to hide" bit is cringe-worthy! I was so, so glad that FP working through his feelings about Brand connected. In some ways, that's our titular moment for this story - I was hoping people would not miss it, and it giving you life sounds like the best possible way to notice it. :-D Even though the prison part is sobering, yeah. Brand would not have a prayer of escaping serious time, I agree. Jughead probably would (after a messy court case, blech), but FP's still our 'worst case scenario' guy these days. I loved that you snort-laughed, BTW! :-D Flourishing bow for the suspense as well - thank you. :) It felt like working out choreography to get everyone in motion and colliding at the right points, so I am VERY glad it made sense and held together. Also... one of my favorite things about this story has been Joaquin's complicated nature even when he's doing _nothing_. Everyone's so tense around him all through the vacation, and he's just... on vacation. Nothing is simple for his character overall, but honestly he's just been having a good time with Kevin in Michigan. :-D (there's a lesson in there somewhere, I think... even though Joaquin's arc is far from resolved! :-D) And yeah, Jughead is about to learn very properly not to run off into the dark after a dog. FP is so over it. :-D**

**Guest, thank you for the wonderful compliment! I love that the chapters are building momentum for you (woo-hoo!), and I loved that you enjoyed those specific details - you always seem to zero in on some of my favorites, which is really encouraging. FP and the gag back-and-forth is classic Brand and FP, and I loved that you saw FP's dialogue as being so reminiscent of Jughead. I so enjoyed having everyone team up and work together, too, and I loved how you put it: "...Then he heard the dog." That just sums it up. :) I was also glad you liked Joaquin and Kevin's moments reacting to 'being shot' (that moment when they're both worried at the end of the chapter is one of my favorites), and Brand's line almost (almost!) got to be the last word on the chapter because I liked that moment so much too. :) I hope you like this chapter just as much!**

**Enjoy!**

**-Button**

**00000**

Roy made his way back to the neighboring rental property on foot. He assumed that Russell had made a very high bid in order to get this specific place for this particular week, so close to the sprawling estate that the network had rented. That was working out well for Roy, now that he had literally missed the boat.

Hired guns were never as predictable as one might hope.

And this whole thing was an almost unmitigated disaster. The one saving grace was that he had not been recognized at any point. That had been a close call with Brand on the boat, and Roy was still not convinced that he had not recognized Morris - who thankfully did not have his sterling reputation (and price) because he rolled on his employers.

Well, Roy should probably also be grateful that nobody had actually been shot. That would have been the worst case scenario, and it turned out that getting hired guns to stop _returning_ fire was significantly more difficult than ordering them not to fire in the first place.

It was bad enough that Roy had been forced to hire serious - expensive - muscle (and to be fair, they'd done a fantastic job of getting both Brand and Jones senior out of the way). Finding that the teens had inexplicably gone to ground within the dark house - and then having the entire place lit up in a largely one-sided _firefight_ (and again: let the record show that it was _not_ their side spraying bullets at teenagers without provocation) - was so far beyond the pale that he was going to have to take extreme evasive action to cover his tracks.

Morris grabbing the redhead and Jones probably should have earned him a bullet. Roy was not fully convinced that he'd just been trying to fulfill their mission and scare those two; the mercenary been powerfully angry over the unexpected situation and insane gunfire - and 'ready to watch someone drown,' as he had so charmingly put it.

Yeah, Brand would shoot Roy without blinking if he ever found out that he had been involved in any of this.

And if his award-worthy performance as 'wealthy tourist' had been any indication, Brand was still mighty attached to the kid. He was apparently willing to be abducted and ransomed in order to keep Jones from being threatened.

That was the one upshot to the disaster that had just played out: it seemed likely that Roy's latest 'tip' for Brand would be compelling.

He'd put that part of the plan into motion earlier in the day, making sure that the update to his earlier intel would be time-stamped to _appear_ useful, but in reality would arrive too late to actually _be_ useful.

As he navigated the path in the rain, Roy wondered if the idiot with the dog had even noticed any of this going on next door. He'd been awfully close by - and the whole thing had been orchestrated by his own employee -, but it was likely that he had no clue, what with the storm and all. He really was a perfect fall guy, and it would not hurt that Roy was now leaving literal tracks leading directly to his doorstep.

All of the complications had been disappointing and frustrating. But at this point, in spite of the near-disaster (or perhaps because of it), Roy felt confident that the idiot would not fly under the radar for much longer.

And Brand would be _very_ grateful to Roy. Their reunion could only go well.

Roy picked up his pace as he heard the German Shepherd barking in reaction to his movements along the trail. The idiot was clearly not a dog person - at least not when it came to this animal - or he would never have left it out during a storm that neither man nor beast should be exposed to.

**00000**

Jughead picked his way carefully along the trail, listening for more barking. He knew there was a neighboring property somewhere in this direction; it was visible from the end of their long dock, even though their own property was large.

The dog might just be lost in the woods, or maybe even dragging a leash that had become tangled in something. Trig had had that happen once when he'd been exploring in Fox Forest, and he'd been inconsolable until Jughead had caught up with him and sorted him out.

Jughead wished he had a flashlight, but at least the rain was not so painfully hard now that he was under the trees.

The dog gave a more energetic series of barks, and Jughead considered getting off of the trail to move more directly toward where they seemed to be located.

His dad would hate that idea. Jughead looked over longingly, but he stayed on the trail and just moved more quickly. Maybe the dog was further away than it had sounded.

Before much longer, though, Jughead saw the neighboring house come into view. Maybe the dog had been left outside, perhaps even by mistake. The lights were on, but it could be that the owners were not home for some reason. Maybe the storm had prevented them from coming back from a run into town.

Or maybe they had been injured in the storm.

Jughead figured he might as well check on more than just the dog, since he'd come this far. Maybe he could even get a ride back to the lodge, since he was feeling more chilled as his adrenaline faded - and he did not want to become hypothermic again.

Not to mention it had been far more than five minutes, and Jughead was certain he'd be in some trouble with both his dad and Brand if he didn't show up at the lodge very soon.

The dog barked again, and this time Jughead was able to zero in on its location. He jogged toward the fenced back yard and gave a sharp whistle - universal dog language, he figured - to announce himself.

**00000**

FP didn't know what to do. His phone was in the lake, so he couldn't call or text Jughead - and honestly if that boy had his phone on him and handy, that ringer had better be off.

If Jughead had been taken away at gunpoint, there were far too many possibilities. The boat could even have come back for the remaining gunman and his son, though there had not been a whole lot of time for that.

And then FP heard a barking dog in the distance.

And an altogether too familiar whistle.

FP cursed under his breath, and then kept on cursing as he made his way toward that side of the property. He wasn't sure what he was looking for, right up until he saw it: a trail.

At least Jughead wasn't in danger. That is, not until his father got ahold of him.

**00000**

Russell was deciding how best to dispose of the dog; it was a diverting mental exercise while he packed.

Because he was getting out that very night, no question, and he was going to leave no trace of himself here. Not so much as a fingerprint.

He'd used an alias, cash, and his exquisite access to resources and information to cover up most of his doings over the past week or so, and Russell was starting to feel more like himself as he went over and over everything in his head.

It would be as though none of this had ever happened. Bryn was certifiable, and she didn't know his name or his face. Roy was a low-level criminal who had proven himself less than competent, and even so he would be well compensated. Russell might even be assigned to investigate the drugging, which would be more than a little convenient.

But then there was an incredibly loud whistle that sounded like it had originated in the back yard.

That could only be the harbinger of something bad. Russell grabbed his gun and slipped out of his room toward the back door.

**00000**

Roy cut through the idiot's rental property. That dog was really going nuts. There seemed to be company over as well; hopefully neither of the men Roy could see moving inside the house would investigate the dog's intense reaction to his movement across the property.

Roy would make tracks toward the road (or, more accurately, make no tracks that went beyond the idiot's property, since the driveway was paved), hike further than he thought was strictly necessary, and then arrange for a ride once he was far enough away that a stranger being picked up would not bear investigation.

That would be miles, but Roy liked his heart beating.

He was starting to relax, though. It had worked. Brand had been spooked, the kid had been terrified, the threat had been even more credible than Roy had intended, and nobody was hurt.

Some people had to wonder if they'd get a call back after they'd applied for a job; Roy was feeling pretty darn confident. It was just a matter of time.

**00000**

Jughead climbed over the tall wooden fence with a little help from a tree that was - obviously - too close to the fence for the barrier to be effective security for the property.

And he stopped short.

The dog _really_ looked like Trigger.

"Hey, buddy," Jughead called across the yard, snapping out of his surprised hesitation. German Shepherds had somewhat varied markings, but Trigger's were not that unusual for the breed. "You're all wet. Let's find you some shelter, huh?"

And then dog was freaking out, and tearing up the lawn in clumps of grass and mud as he tried to break free and get to Jughead.

"...Trig?" Jughead asked, and he started running toward the dog that had obviously recognized him.

Then a floodlight went on, illuminating the yard.

And Agent Russell stepped into view, carrying a gun.

Jughead stopped running and stared at him, stock still and silent for a moment.

And then he started yelling.

"You _stole_ my _dog_?" Jughead's tone held a potent combination of betrayal and fury. He turned away from Trigger to approach the agent instead. "The FBI took Trigger? Right out of my house?" Jughead's mind was racing as he pieced things together. "Agent Sarah is a _liar_. Why would you do this?"

Even when Russell raised his gun, it never occurred to Jughead that he was in any real danger. Russell was an FBI agent, and they dealt in threats and not actual violence. Jughead had learned that much over the previous weeks.

But then there was a gunshot.

**00000**

FP had not gotten far down the trail when he heard a gun go off. There was almost zero chance that Jughead had been the one pulling the trigger.

It had been quite the night, but FP found that he had one more run in him. He took off down the dark path, focusing more on keeping his feet under him than on the lights that were coming into view. Apparently they had a neighbor.

And that neighbor had a dog.

And a gun.

**00000**

Jughead was breathing hard - maybe hyperventilating - as he was pushed into a wooden chair. He was roped into place, and he knew that he wasn't going anywhere even before it occurred to him that he should be resisting - fighting - trying to get Trig and get away.

But Russell was dead. He had a hole in his chest and he was just _dead_. In the back yard.

Jughead felt a thick cloth gag being pulled into his mouth from behind him, and too late he realized that he should have been screaming for help.

Because Brand had told him to scream like hell if he ever saw Agent Donn again.

And now Jughead was alone. Tied up and silenced. He'd done exactly what he'd promised his dad he'd never do, and Jughead was increasingly certain that he'd just traded his life for Trigger's. He'd left himself only one option: somehow, by some miracle, saving himself. He'd given himself the worst possible odds. His dad would be left alone.

And Russell was probably still bleeding.

Jughead closed his eyes tightly. He knew this wasn't a strategy, but he needed a moment and this felt right. In fact, Jughead suddenly wondered what would happen if he never opened his eyes again.

"Kid. The dog's fine," Agent Donn spoke.

Jughead opened his eyes. The words sounded promising, and his tone was reassuring, but Brand had made it clear that Agent Donn was dangerous.

And Jughead trusted Brand. He did not trust Agent Donn.

Who had just tied him into a chair and gagged him. Jughead whimpered as more of the situation computed through the distracting jumble that his brain seemed to be creating in order to drown out the memory of Russell falling to the ground right in front of him.

Jughead tried to focus on where he was, and what was happening right now.

The rope holding his arms behind the chair and wrapped around his chest was soft, like the one he'd been thrown to tie Archie up with. Maybe it was a certain kind that was good for tying people up. Maybe Brand knew the types, just like he knew all of the different knives. Maybe Brand knew how to criss-cross the ropes properly, too; there wasn't even a knot over Jughead's chest, but the loops of rope were all drawn together tightly just from some kind of a twist, and he could hardly budge at all from the chair's back. There must be a trick to it.

Jughead couldn't see his hands, but he had felt - and could still feel - that the rope had some loops and tricks there as well that kept it from slipping. He thought he might even be losing circulation in his hands (though he was so cold from the rain and from kayaking that it was hard to tell), which was impressive. Donn was definitely good at this.

The rappelling ropes would probably make good practice. The knots he'd tied in them hadn't slipped; in fact, Jughead probably should have tried something like that on Archie so that they would not have been threatened by the gunman.

Maybe one of the masked shooters had been Donn. The one who had grabbed Archie had a different voice, but Agent Donn could have been one of the others. He didn't seem wet from the rain, though, so maybe not. Jughead was pretty sure that everyone involved had gotten drenched. He could feel that he was still dripping onto the floor.

At least it wasn't blood. He hadn't been shot.

Jughead felt his breathing become even faster - he felt lightheaded - and he tried once again to block the images of Agent Russell out of his mind. He focused instead on the faint scent of detergent in his gag. He wondered if there were people who would know what brand of soap it was just from smelling it. The fact that it was a nice smell was helpful; it was almost a taste since he was gagged with it. It was probably expensive, too, since this vacation home was really nice.

It was strange that he'd never given much thought to this before. Jughead wasn't even sure what detergent he used at home; he knew the size, shape, and color, and he knew where to find it on the shelf to buy it from the store, but he could not come up with the name of it. He couldn't even name more than one or two brands of-

"Stop hyperventilating."

Jughead startled at the sound of the angry command.

Oh yeah. Donn. Jughead should probably focus on him.

Maybe Agent Donn had taken Trigger. Maybe he'd been sending the notes. Maybe Agent Russell had been working with him - or maybe working against him to try and stop all of this - or maybe -

"You are exceptionally difficult to keep up with, and Russell's been a loose cannon for a while now, but I'm going to make sure that you stay safe. Brandon will appreciate that, so you be sure you let him know I did this."

Donn walked in front of Jughead, crouched, and then tugged on one of his ankles. He pulled so that Jughead's knee straightened and his leg extended out in front of the chair, heel on the floor.

"That's good. Stay just like that." Donn tweaked Jughead's knee almost affectionately and then repeated the motion with Jughead's other leg.

Jughead's mind reeled. Apparently Agent Donn cared what Brand thought. He was probably going to tie him up further, too, since he was messing with his ankles.

Maybe... this was a time-out.

Jughead figured that even Brand, who'd been really upset with Donn over what he'd done during debriefing, would approve of a time-out right about now. Talk about lapses in judgment. Even his dad might approve, or at least not be too mad at Agent Donn when he was called to come pick Jughead up.

His dad would probably want to practice with the climbing rope too, since Brand had issued a standing offer to teach his dad how to put Jughead into a time-out. It hadn't seemed like a serious offer, but Jughead would totally understand if that changed.

He hoped it did change, actually. That would mean he'd made it home alive.

"I've gotten to know you pretty well over the past couple of months, and I've developed a theory."

Donn walked behind Jughead once more, tousling his hair as he did so. Another time-out maneuver.

Or maybe it was the very last time that Jughead would be touched kindly by another human while he was still alive. One or the other. Jughead barely managed to stop another whimper before it became audible.

"It looks like I might be right. We just need you to slow down long enough to think things through. You're a smart kid; everyone says so."

Yeah, this was sounding more and more like a time-out. That wasn't making Jughead much calmer - yet - but now he was able to focus on Donn and get his brain to ignore some of the random thoughts and observations that were still trying to flood his mind.

Maybe he was becoming hopeful. That would be nice. Even if he was wrong, whatever came next would not hurt so much if he didn't see it coming. Jughead had learned that from the drug dealers: sometimes anticipating something terrible was worse than being surprised by it.

"Brandon doesn't have my style of personnel management, though. He likes to give more rope than I do, and you _really_ like to hang yourself with it."

The agent's turn of phrase sounded equal parts terrifying - and accurate. Against all odds, Jughead felt a flush of embarrassment.

"He'll appreciate me helping him out. Making life easier."

Jughead had to admit that Donn might not be wrong. This whole evening was a debacle of epic proportions, and he'd made everything worse by going after Trig without getting backup first. Jughead was beginning to realize why he'd done that, too.

He hadn't wanted anyone to stop him.

And if anyone had, he never would have found Trigger.

Jughead definitely wouldn't do it over again quite this way... but even with the benefit of hindsight, it was complicated. This was probably what his counselor would call a 'mixed message.'

"I know that you want to make it easier on Brandon too. I've seen you making an effort. It looks like it's sincerely difficult for you to take the time to slow down and consider the consequences of your actions."

Jughead nodded eagerly. This was sounding promising; maybe Jughead just needed to show that he'd learned his lesson and would not do this a second time. Or a third time. Or whatever number they were up to at this point.

"Now, keep your legs just the way I have them."

Jughead obeyed willingly. Agent Donn could finish putting him into the time-out and then get Brand on the phone. Everything would be better soon.

When Donn came back into view, however, Jughead had reason to reassess everything he'd been thinking.

Because the concept of a time-out had never before involved an aluminum baseball bat.

**00000**

FP would need time and reflection before he'd be able to begin constructing a timeline of what had gone on at the lodge, where each desperate scene had taken place, and who had been involved in what that evening. But if someone asked him what the worst moment of the night was, he was already crystal clear on the answer, even while it was playing out.

It was the moment when he'd approached a picture window and seen his son bound and gagged in a wooden chair, his legs stretched out in front of him, with a federal agent standing over his vulnerable knees with an aluminum baseball bat.

The man was already in position to take a swing - raising the bat - but Jughead didn't look frightened; he was staring up at the agent in what appeared to be innocent confusion. He wasn't even moving his legs in an attempt to protect himself.

FP almost did not aim high when he shot his way through that window. Almost.

**00000**

Later on, Jughead had clear impressions in his mind of what happened, but he wasn't sure how much he could trust them.

At the time he hadn't understood what Donn was doing, or why the agent was making such a strange mistake. He should be able to see that he didn't need a baseball bat to make threats when Jughead was already tied up.

And suddenly there was gunfire. Glass shattering.

It was as if the whole storm came into the room with them.

By the time Jughead realized that it was his dad, and he had time to be afraid about him going up against Agent Donn, the altercation was over. Donn had acquiesced with annoyance, but no real resistance.

He was _chatting_.

And FP was a little different from Brand when it came to rescuing Jughead.

For one thing, he didn't change his expression when he looked between Donn and Jughead while he kept the agent sitting in a chair at gunpoint and freed his son. Maybe his dad really was equally angry with them both, but even when Jughead had screwed up royally Brand always made a point of giving him a concerned or encouraging look when he was helping him.

Of course, maybe this time Brand would have looked angry. That was possible.

His dad yanked the gag out first, leaving it tied around Jughead's neck, which was an improvement over Brand's method of assessing him and untying him in whatever order let him look for injuries most efficiently. 'Gag first' should definitely be the rule.

Brand usually didn't try to get information from him right away, though, and demand answers while he was impatiently jerking a hunting knife through a whole mess of rope. And Jughead had seen his dad's aim with a knife earlier in the evening, so when he simply closed his eyes and braced himself against the yanks that might leave him bloodied - and potentially missing a finger or two -, he felt fully justified.

And then his dad began yelling at Donn for drugging him. And Donn defended himself by saying that nobody had been drugged; Jughead was just being a spoiled brat.

And then Brand probably got a whole lot of paperwork added to his workload, because when Jughead opened his eyes in a serious hurry to see who had fired a gun, it looked like Brand's service weapon that FP had used to shoot a hole in Donn's chair - right between the agent's legs.

Donn's eyes bugged out, and Jughead was impressed, particularly when his dad shrugged mock-apologetically and said very sarcastically that the gun had some drift and a light trigger pull, and he really wasn't comfortable carrying it in such a stressful situation.

All of that helped snap Jughead back into focusing on the task at hand: "Dad, we have to get Trigger. And... we should probably find a sheet."

Then his dad's expression did change - and he looked _really _worried. "Okay, Jug. Take it easy; we're going to get you some help. Do you still have your cell phone?"

The next few impressions were blurrier: finally being free, and then his dad wrapping him in an incredibly plush throw blanket from the living room that smelled even nicer than his gag had; Donn explaining something complicated to FP about Brand that didn't make any sense; police arriving and asking dozens of questions that Jughead could not possibly know the answers to, and then Agent Donn leaving with one of them as if they were buddies and the cops were not sending him up the river for the rest of his life for stealing Trigger and shooting his partner; Brand arriving and taking charge (and his gun), and Jughead's dad guiding the three of them to a couch so that they could sit together and argue about Brand leaving everyone else alone with the paramedics while the police worked; someone finally taking him seriously enough to look out the back door and confirming that, yes, there was a dead federal agent and a live German Shepherd (his dad had apparently not believed him about it being Trigger until that moment) that had thankfully become a lot more patient as the rain slowed down; both Brand and FP hurriedly abandoning him on the couch to stop the police from approaching Trigger.

There was a lot to be thankful for, Jughead decided as he wrapped himself more tightly in the warm throw blanket. He watched his dad explain that Trigger belonged to Jughead, that he had no idea how the dog had ended up here, but that they'd take him home and figure it out later.

Brand found a leash hanging by the door and suggested rock, paper, scissors. Then he wanted the best three out of five.

The police thought they were being overly dramatic until an officer came back inside from the back yard with a disturbed look on his face. Jughead wanted to explain how Trigger felt - it was easy to lash out when something bad had happened - but his dad was coming back over to sit with him.

"You came after Trigger in a hurry, huh? You forgot that both my phone and Brandon's are at the bottom of the lake?"

Jughead shrugged. Close enough.

Everyone could be mad later, when they checked the phone logs.

His dad seemed to accept that and put an arm around his shoulders.

Brand returned to the living room with Trigger, who was leaping against his leash in delight, and with an armload of great-smelling towels - and put Jughead to work drying his dog's fur.

Everything was just about perfect.

**00000**

The next morning FP and Brandon were sitting together in the great room on one of the massive leather couches, surrounded by discarded bedding. Jughead was still asleep on the floor, melded into his dog for warmth as well as comfort, even though everyone else was awake. Packing.

The photographer would arrive soon. That should be a fun conversation.

Tom, Fred, and Mary would arrive soon as well. They'd already had phone conversations, though, so that should be simpler. Not _easier_, but simpler. Neither Kevin nor Joaquin had needed to be hospitalized, or even given stitches once the shards of stone had been removed from their respective arms, so that was also good.

However.

Tom Keller had gotten Brandon on the phone while FP had been going after Jughead. A classic Brandon Davies exchange had followed.

It hadn't particularly helped that Kevin had texted his father a heartfelt goodbye during the firefight when he'd thought they might not make it. Or that Brandon had apparently expressed more criticism of Kevin's inaccurate assessment of the danger than Tom thought was warranted (which was Brandon's version of the story; FP was pretty sure that Tom's disagreement was over the _actual_ level of danger, and not over Brandon casting aspersions on Kevin's ability to _assess_ the danger).

In any event, the whole thing had devolved speedily when Kevin had started shouting his opinions toward Brandon's phone in the middle of the conversation.

FP might need to do some work to get Tom and Brandon talking to each other again. It was not where he preferred to expend his energy, but he did feel responsible for Brandon after everything they'd gone through together.

They'd figure it out somehow, the two of them, with both of the Kellers.

"He's going to be okay. It's going to take time, though. You remember, right?" Brandon tapped FP's shoulder once and then dropped his hand to rest there heavily, as if to steady him.

"Remember what?" FP was confused.

The police and ambulances had (finally) arrived while FP had been navigating the path toward the neighboring property. Archie had taken FP's call from Jughead's cell phone (which was surprisingly still working, and even more surprisingly still had a charge) and directed some police and a paramedic to the neighboring rental. That had taken care of initial crime scene documentation.

Jughead had been in such severe shock that nobody had gotten much out of him beyond what they could already see for themselves.

He was eager to talk about Trigger, said very little about Russell or Donn, and then Jughead had made the casual observation to the police that it had been nice of his dad 'to come after him for once.'

FP and Brandon (who had followed shortly after the police arrived, once he heard that Jughead had been located, leaving the other teens with the paramedics - another decision that Keller probably took issue with) had slapped their foreheads in unison in another one of those weird twinning moments that made them deeply uncomfortable.

"You remember the first time you saw someone die." Brandon gave FP a look of understanding and solidarity. "And Jones is a special case. It's not going to be the same. And it's not like it's ever easy."

FP sat up straighter on the couch. This was news. "But... in Toronto you two had a body count of-,"

"He never saw anything. He was right there, and I don't know how much he heard or what he remembers. But that was all me." Brandon's grip tightened on FP's shoulder. He seemed to be willing the older man to believe him.

And FP did.

"I appreciate your saving his knees." Brandon looked down at Jughead with a pained expression.

"Well. I appreciate your saving his life." FP rubbed a hand over his eyes. They sat in silence for a few moments. "A year ago I complained about things. I don't remember what. I had no idea what I was talking about."

"A year ago I thought..." Brandon's voice trailed off and then he shrugged. "I had options. Too many, maybe."

"That doesn't sound like a problem to me." FP laughed shortly.

"You'd be surprised."

"I wouldn't mind finding out. I'm not that person, though," FP said decisively. "That ship has come and gone more times than I deserved."

"And now you're just marking time until they bury you?" Brandon smirked.

"And trying not to screw even that much up." FP smiled. "You planning to do anything other than help raise my son?"

"Nope. I figure he's enough work to keep us both real busy in the afterlife, too."

"That sounds about right." FP leaned back heavily on the couch. After a few moments he turned to regard Brandon. "When did you serve in the military?"

"Classified. It's all classified."

"Figures."

"Where'd you learn to shoot?"

FP let a slow grin spread across his face. "It's classified."

"Figures. You know I'm not gonna rate with the kid anymore after that little display of marksmanship."

"You never did, Brandon. Sorry to break it to you."

"I know. But it was nice while it lasted." Brandon shrugged, his tone light but his words hesitant. "He looked good in my sunglasses."

FP looked over at Brandon then. "Don't put him in the past tense, Davies. He's right here."

Brandon removed his hand from FP's shoulder and ran both hands through his hair as he leaned forward with a groan. "I can't keep doing this. It isn't fair to him, or to you. I'll play defense from a distance, make sure you're both protected, and keep in some touch with the kid - but we've played it out. The Davies duo is history. "

"And good riddance to _that_ ill-conceived-," FP cut himself off when his anger flared up. He really needed to work on controlling that. "Look, just because he's not your... _sidekick,_ it doesn't mean you're off the hook. You're not running out on the 'wolf pack' or whatever you're calling the collective these days."

Brandon really liked his nicknames.

"Aren't I?" Brandon gave FP a skeptical look in return. "What would you call it?"

"You're going back to Toronto, like a responsible adult. You're still his godfather. You'll still be part of his life."

"You and I both know that's just code for fading into the-,"

"And you'll show up. I know you're capable."

"Is that really what you want?" Brandon watched FP carefully, but with something that looked like hope.

"I'm not engraving invitations over here, Davies." FP glowered. "Just... don't fade away on him. On us."

Brandon blinked. He looked over at Jughead. "Okay. I'll show up."

"Good." FP figured he'd live to regret this, but not as much as he'd have regretted doing anything other than this.

"He saved my life once. I don't think you ever got that whole story." Brandon seemed surprised but grateful - and this sounded right away like a trade. Like he was somehow trying to respond in kind for FP making him welcome in their lives, and in Riverdale.

FP settled back onto the couch and Brandon began telling him tales of Toronto from a perspective that he had not heard before.

**00000**

The pleasant conversation between FP and Brandon lasted for about an hour.

Then Tom suggested that he might try sitting down with Jug before everyone went to the airport in the afternoon, and shared the bizarre update that Donn was not being investigated, charged, detained, or anything else.

FP could not understand Donn going free; he'd seen the man _winding up_ to destroy his son's knees with a baseball bat. He'd shot his way through a plate glass window in order to make it in time to stop him. He'd given a damning report of what he'd witnessed and also what he had been told on the scene by Donn himself - which had seemed much as if he'd been giving a report for FP to pass along to Brandon.

Donn had sent the letters to Jughead. He had done so in order to 'get in good with Brandon,' who had looked like he was very close to combusting when he started to piece together the strange logic.

The 'getting in good' part eluded FP more than anything else, but Brandon had attempted to explain that through analogy since actually _explaining_ was - as usual - impossible.

Apparently those coded threats from Brandon to Jughead to keep him from treading on danger were somehow distant cousins of the threatening notes. Taking an aluminum bat to Jughead's knees had been Donn's more permanent answer to the 'time-out.' Shooting Russell in cold blood right in front of Jug before the situation could escalate - or resolve itself - had been 'protecting' him.

If Jughead had been having trouble sleeping, Donn might have tried to euthanize him.

It was all in the name of helping Brandon. Somehow impressing him. For some _wholly_ _unknown_ _reason_, or so Brandon claimed again and again.

And, oh yeah, FP still could not be 'read into' anything. For Jughead's protection and his own.

Best. Vacation. Ever.

**00000**

Trigger was freaking out.

Jughead understood. They'd been separated for a long time. But he really wanted to keep snorkeling for a little while longer.

Everyone else had packed or was still packing, and Archie had come down to sit on the dock and watch Jughead swim back and forth in a wetsuit, with the dive mask and fins he'd located in the lodge. He'd already found Brand's knife, and he was sure he'd find more if he just took his time and used a pattern to search. The gun was down here somewhere as well, but Jughead wasn't sure he'd retrieve that if he did find it.

Aha - he was pretty sure he was seeing a wallet now. Jughead dove and swam for the bottom.

And there was a splash above him.

When Jughead came up, Brand's wallet in hand, he was surprised to see that it was Trigger and not Archie who had leapt in.

"Hey, buddy. I'm fine. You hate the water, and _you _don't have a wetsuit." Jughead pushed Trigger in toward the shore as he paddled. "Come on; it's cold. Let's get this into the pile and you can stay out in the sun to dry off." Everyone had been complaining about the smell of wet dog.

"How long are you planning to do this?" Archie hadn't objected to the snorkeling plan, but Jughead was pretty sure he'd been assigned to 'don't let Jughead do anything crazy' duty.

"I want to find the car keys and my dad's wallet," Jughead answered as he dropped Brand's wallet next to his knife. "I think they were frisked one at a time, so I've got to work through Brand's stuff before I'll find my dad's."

"Okay." Archie looked out toward the swim raft. "It's not as far away as it seemed last night."

"Nope." Jughead waded back into the water and began to swim again. The keys were going to be the trickiest, so he'd need to figure out how to look for them efficiently.

After a few more minutes of searching, another splash surprised him, and Jughead popped his head up to see why Trig was back in the water.

"Want help?" It was Betty; she must have found more of the diving gear in the lodge.

"Sure." Jughead smiled. "You can be the one to ask Brand if we can keep any cash we find, okay? He's big on 'privacy,' so his wallet's probably loaded."

Brand was in a hammock, watching him swim from a distance, and Jughead was virtually certain that his dad was out of his view but somewhere that allowed him to see down to the water as well.

The wolf pack had almost been wiped out, and while Jughead didn't want to think about that right now, while they were still on vacation for a few more hours, he could see that Brand and his dad were thinking about it. A lot.

"Sounds like a plan." Betty did not smile back; she just looked at him worriedly.

Everyone was insisting that Jughead was still in shock and not as fine as he'd felt when he got up this morning. It seemed likely that they were right, but Jughead wished they'd just let him enjoy feeling okay - especially if that feeling was not going to last.

Jughead and Betty found a rhythm and swam side by side along the path they thought the boat had taken the night before.

"Hey," Jughead popped up for more air and to get another opinion. "Does that look like something?"

Betty dove this time, and suddenly they had the car keys and FP's pocketknife.

"This would have been way more useful than mine last night," Jughead admitted ruefully. He swam over to the dock this time, since they were further out in the water and swimming to shore would take longer. He pried open the blades so that the knife could dry.

"Did you talk to Sheriff Keller yet?" Betty asked while she waited, treading water.

Veronica was walking out onto the dock. She joined Archie where he was sitting and watching the salvage mission. Jughead waved and she gave him a concerned look and a very delayed wave in return.

"Nah, I gave him the slip," Jughead gave Betty a lopsided grin. "I have to eat lunch with him. Mano a mano, but with my dad and Brand there to make sure that nobody gets tortured."

Betty didn't laugh.

"Hey, it's all good now. I've got Trig. Brand programmed my speed dial this morning." Brand had been sitting over a YouTube video trying to figure that out when he had woken up, and Jughead really appreciated it. He could have figured it out on his own, but Brand had somehow programmed everyone into three groups based on how useful he deemed them, with nicknames related to when each person should be called for particular types of emergencies.

It was funny. That helped.

"You're included in the 'first line of defense,' so you should feel honored," Jughead added. "Archie and Veronica are in the 'if all else fails' category. There's an asterisk next to Kevin's name. It's a real system."

Betty still wasn't laughing.

Jughead decided to just return to swimming and searching. If Betty was like him, she probably needed a good workout and then things would seem better.

It was worth a shot.

And hey, there was his dad's wallet. Jughead dove again.

**00000**

Fred Andrews was exhausted. Mentally, emotionally, and physically.

He and Mary had tried their hardest to be warm and reassuring with Alice, who seemed to have a deep suspicion of Tom Keller, but that whole ordeal had gone far beyond heartbreaking. Putting her on a flight alone, even knowing that Hermione would be waiting when she got off of the plane, felt very wrong.

Tom had driven like a maniac on speed, so even the drive itself had been stressful, and just when they'd thought they would get a reprieve on the way back - since they were no longer hurrying to get to Alice - Kevin had sent his father the kind of text you can only pray never comes to you.

And then Fred and Mary had begun texting Archie, praying for even that much.

There had been hours of tense driving while nobody at the lodge was responding to calls or texts. They eventually picked up a state trooper escort when Keller was pulled over for speeding, flashed his badge, and explained what was going on.

And then, at long last, Fred had finally gotten a text back.

It was a brief video that Archie had taken with his phone of Jughead wielding a tiny pocketknife on the swim raft, in rainfall so heavy that it was clearly visible in the footage. White capped waves surrounded the raft, and someone (Brandon, they were later told) was lying with his back to the camera, arms tied together with black rope.

Archie had apparently been inspired when he'd been asked to use the flashlight feature on his phone to help Jughead see what he was doing on the raft. He still insisted that he'd merely been 'getting Jughead back' for the photos of him that had scared Veronica when his arm had gotten caught while diving, and that he'd thought that the video would 'get everyone up to speed.'

But Fred was not going to get those years of his life back.

Even after that first text was immediately followed by a grinning group selfie in the great room of the lodge (the texts were clearly sent a while after that first video had been shot), and then quite a few explanatory messages, Fred had found it difficult to process any new information. He'd even encouraged Tom to 'step on it,' which was entirely unnecessary.

After all of that, Fred found it bizarrely comforting to claim a hammock near Brandon, watch the boys from a distance, and discuss at length various employee management challenges he'd faced at Andrews Construction over the years.

Fred was used to people being bored by construction talk - let alone the daily dramas involved when overseeing men doing tiring and sometimes dangerous tasks - so it was nice to have a willing audience for some of the stories he'd found interesting or amusing over the years.

Brandon had been particularly interested in strategies for managing overeager employees whose energy led to problems, which Fred confessed he'd like to see more of. Nevertheless, he had known a mason who had considered himself an artist more than someone who was bound by the desires - and constraints - of those paying for the work.

Fred had worked with the man for years, with mixed results during some of that time, and he shared story after story - and Brandon kept on asking for more. It was generous of him to act so interested, and Fred had to admit that the conversation relaxed him even more than the sway of the hammock - and reminded him that most of life was in fact that mundane.

And it would be once again.

**00000**

"End of the line, kid." Brandon opened his car door and motioned for Jughead to get out as well. He had made arrangements for a rental car in eastern Michigan, and they had just pulled into the agency's lot.

They'd opted to road-trip back to Riverdale - with Brandon leaving the Joneses when they got closer to Toronto - so that Trigger would not have to be crated for a flight. They'd gotten Trigger a dog harness for the car, an errand that FP had regretted missing as soon as he came back from his own (getting road trip snacks) and saw that Brandon had both Trigger _and_ Jughead harnessed and clipped into the back seat.

Brandon had made an awful lot of comments about his driving, and even Jughead had pointed out that his dad had said once before that it would be a good idea for him to get gear that matched Trig's.

The fact that Jughead had insisted on wearing the harness for hours of their trip - and only taken it off when FP refused to pull into any rest stops with his son looking like a hostage NASCAR driver - was evidence that he was feeling increasingly anxious about Brandon leaving. He'd clearly wanted to prolong the joke for as long as possible and keep the tone light in the vehicle.

And Jughead was still eerily upbeat.

They were definitely headed for a crash, and FP was certain that it was going to be epic when it happened. Thankfully he still had a couple of days off from work, so they could batten the hatches and weather whatever came next.

And God knew FP was not planning to leave Jughead alone until that happened and he returned to a (much) more even keel. Everything about his current affect was screaming instability, which meant that he was wholly unpredictable.

Brandon had the same instinct (he'd given FP some unsolicited advice when they'd had a few moments to themselves at the last rest stop; it had involved handcuffs and the extra dog harness he'd bought), but he played along in the car, teasing both of the Joneses and dropping his front seat back onto Jughead, who was then trapped when he had trouble persuading Trigger to share more of the back seat.

That was actually an improvement over Jughead's previous posture, which had involved leaning forward between the two front seats with one arm around Trigger but almost all of his torso up front with his father and Brandon.

If there had been a seat in the space between Brandon and FP, they'd no doubt all three be up front - and maybe Trigger as well, if Jughead could figure out a way to do that safely.

It was true that he'd come close to having one more thing in common with Alice: Jughead had come perilously close to making this trip home with the Andrews family and facing the prospect of moving back in with them. Permanently.

Or, as Jughead had put it when he'd demanded more information during their lunchtime talk with Tom Keller, "You actually wrote a will? You're leaving me to _Mr. Andrews_ if you die? He's never even shot anyone, dad."

Tom had looked horrified, and FP had to admit that it was not even close to what he'd expected Jug to say in response to that information.

Thankfully Brandon hadn't even blinked (Fred being Jughead's 'godfather' in the legal sense should not have been in any way a surprise to him, though it was news to him), and quickly assured Jughead that he'd stick around if that happened. Presumably to shoot people. FP figured he should just be grateful that part was left unsaid.

But Jughead had immediately pointed out that Brandon had been right next to FP on the raft. With a little less luck, they both could have been gone.

For all of those reasons, Brandon and FP had not insisted that Jughead get off the center console and sit back in his seatbelt.

"You're sure we can't go to Niagara Falls?" Jughead had been poring over a map on his phone for the past thirty minutes or so, and pointed out how convenient a side trip would be. "You both still have time off."

"You can't go into Canada right now, so that would be awfully difficult with Brandon going through Sarnia." FP got out of the car as well. This hadn't been how he'd intended to tell Jughead about the paperwork going through for his name change, but here they were.

"I'm a dual citizen. Like Brand," Jughead shot FP a challenging look. Yep; this was already shaping up to be a difficult goodbye.

"You are _not_ a dual citizen-" that was one of the few things that had not been rubber stamped by Brandon's agency "-and your passport is not currently in your legal name, Jug." FP opened the trunk so that Brand could retrieve his luggage, and he rifled through his own suitcase for a moment. "Here's the letter."

Jughead accepted it and read it carefully. FP had hoped for a little more enthusiasm, but he knew that the timing was far from conducive to that. He'd meant to do this when they'd gotten some one-on-one time during the vacation, but that had not been in the cards.

Brandon read over Jughead's shoulder and raised an eyebrow. "Well, well, Trip."

"I guess I'm not a Davies anymore." Jughead shrugged, but FP saw that he was watching Brandon's expression closely.

"Which means I might just have to start working for your affections," Brandon widened his eyes in mock horror. "Who knows… I might need to start by looking into getting you an internship, and maybe dropping by once you've gotten settled in and broken a few cases wide open. What do you say?"

"It could work." Jughead's eyes crinkled before his smile broke through.

"Come here and give your godfather a hug. Then I'm hitting the road, because we've both got long drives ahead of us." Brandon made brief eye contact with FP and it was clear that he'd also noticed the signs that this could be quick - or it could be painful.

Jughead obediently hugged him.

"Now, take my hunting knife and don't ever let me see you with a toy pocketknife again." Brandon held out what FP was pretty sure was his favorite weapon. Great.

"Can I have your sunglasses too?" Jughead did not seem overly excited about the knife either, though he clipped it to his belt without argument. "I'll keep them safe."

"No. You have to _borrow_ those, just like everybody else," Brandon retorted. "_Give_ you my sunglasses? Come on, kid." Brandon slid them onto Jughead's face. "I'll be back for them. Once you're settled in at that internship."

Jughead nodded.

"Come on. One more hug for the road. It's a lot of road." Brandon held his arms open a second time, and this time Jughead launched into him.

FP had intended to give them space, but Brandon beckoned him over to join the hug.

"Come on, FP, I know you like me. And my pretty face. Did your father tell you how he protected my good looks from those goons that took us prisoner?" Brandon pulled FP into the hug with both hands.

"_You_ told me." Jughead was still smiling, but he was trying to edge out of the hug now that he was trapped between his dad and Brandon. "Why do you keep bringing that up? He only did it because you're younger."

"It's adorable that you think that. And I keep bringing it up so you know that I'll be around; my being involved in your life is not just your father's penance. Not anymore," Brand said. He hesitated before continuing in a stage whisper: "Don't tell your dad, but when Alice wrote that article, he started accepting 'the guy who took Jones to Toronto.' Now I think he's actually accepting Brand Davies."

Jughead twisted around so that he could see his dad's expression and reaction to that.

FP simply submitted to the hug and patted Brandon on the shoulder. "Take care of yourself, Davies."

"I programmed your speed dial too, old man," Brandon continued looking down at Jughead even though he was ostensibly addressing FP, "and guess who's first on the list. In case of behavioral issues."

FP sighed. They'd gotten replacement cell phones before they'd begun the road trip, and he had no doubt that Brandon had indeed reprogrammed his phone. That was unlikely to be the only change he'd find, too, if Brandon's grin was any indication.

"Be sure you miss me. And I want you to FaceTime me as soon as you get home, kid. You've got the monster and your dad. I'll be all alone in the townhouse."

Jughead nodded, still trying to get out of the awkward hug.

FP was about to pull back and let Jughead go when he felt Brandon shift his arms down so that they enclosed Jughead.

And then Brandon was free, walking away as he hefted his luggage, and Jughead was left behind in FP's embrace.

**00000**

**Epilogue**

**00000**

Ten minutes later, Jughead's phone buzzed.

"Hey, do me three favors, kid," Brand said when Jughead answered. "Put on my sunglasses, get in the front seat - your father is not a chauffeur, and your dog is fine -, and call me back with video once you're done crying. We never did get your dad to sing the trucker song about a convoy that he made the grave mistake of mentioning. And I really think we were wearing him down."

Jughead agreed.

FP eyed him as he climbed over the center console, but did not comment.

That is, until the video call began and Jughead set the phone up on the dashboard so they could both see and hear Brand. _Then_ there was commentary.

"We should all find a place to get ice cream," Jughead finally suggested. "Let me know when you see one, Brand, and I'll look for one too."

FP ruffled his son's hair affectionately.

"I saw that," Brand's voice came through the phone. "Keep it up, FP, but the kid's smart. He won't accept substitutes."

Jughead raised an eyebrow at Brand. "Dad's not a substitute, Brand. He's the original."

"Original _what_?"

Jughead bantered with Brand for a little while longer, but he also watched his dad relaxing into the drive and finally promised to call again when he got home. Brand gave him a knowing smile.

"Gotta give your bio dad some attention, Trip?"

Jughead smirked. "He and I need to come up with something to get you back for the rappelling plan." They'd never pranked his dad, but they _had_ been forced to explain how Jughead and Archie had managed their dramatic escape from the lodge.

"You were in on that plan. Traitor."

"And now I can be in on whatever we come up with to do to you," Jughead was smug.

"_Now_ you're talking like a kid who's got two parents." Brand's grin widened when FP grunted unhappily.

Jughead grinned back, with mischief in his eyes. "Nah. You're just my fairy godfather." He disconnected the call while Brand was still protesting.

"Thanks, Dad," Jughead said as he leaned his seat back slightly. He reached for the radio to turn it on, and began scanning for a classic rock station that his dad would approve. "I know that was an awful lot of Brand. A whole month."

"That was _slightly_ longer than a month," FP raised an eyebrow, but then he smiled. "But Brandon's okay. We've got a few things in common. It will be nice to get back to it being just the two of us, though. And Trigger."

Jughead reached into the back seat to pet Trig. "Our wolf pack." It was Brand's phrase, but Jughead figured he could steal it for him and his dad.

"You bet." His dad used another one of Brand's phrases.

Jughead smiled when FP dropped a hand onto his shoulder and left it there as they drove toward home.

**00000**

**The ending to this story wrote itself (that last image with Brand leaving) and I had to add the epilogue because it was SO SAD (to me, anyway). Brand ripping off the band-aid while Jughead was restrained in FP's hug was going to kill me. It's the right final image, and everything is changing (again) for them, and in many ways it probably should be the end of the trilogy (yeah, I know, the 'trilogy' with the unbelievably long third story that became two stories, the second half of which is literally twice the length of the other stories... yep...), but again: SO SAD.**

**And the Serpents are still waiting. And Joaquin. Alice Carter's got a new situation. Trigger probably needs some TLC.**

**So.**

**(you know the drill, right?)**

**The next story is titled "Shifting Territories," if you're reading this it's probably live already (yay!), and I'm going to try to set it up so readers can theoretically enjoy it as a stand-alone (barriers to entry reduced!), but I'm honestly not sure that's possible. Or wise. (the back story seems essential, right?) We shall see! **

**If you're still on the journey, I'll love to hear how you liked the conclusion to this story, and I'll look forward to digging into a more town-of-Riverdale-heavy sequel. :-D I'll look for you there!**

**-Button**


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